


The Crest

by coolbyrne



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack takes Izzy to Mexico to help her get over a rough divorce but instead ends up being the one to turn over a new leaf. Slibbs AU. (Note: Additional chapter added 12/16/20! Chapter 5)
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 161
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, a simple AU idea about surfing turned into this. I liked using the bits we know- Jack working in San Diego, tweaking the canon about Gibbs in Mexico- and turning it into something new. I hope you like it, too! As always, it's thenicecheese that comes up with these ideas and pushes me through the hard parts. Though I have to say, there weren't many in this one; it was super fun to write!

They both flopped unceremoniously on their respective beds, face first. It had been a long, long drive, but at last, they had pulled into Todos Santos, their midnight arrival adding 2 to the small beach town's population. 

"Was the Jeep always that uncomfortable or am I just getting old?"

Jack's question got swallowed up by the pillow and Izzy's laughter did the same. "Both," she mumbled. "Why did we come all this way again?"

"Because we're here to get away, and Ricardo said if we wanted a real surfing experience, this was the place to go."

"I think the intent was for you to bring him, too."

Jack rolled her eyes at the memory of the man with the sparkling eyes and sly smile. Any other time, she might have considered it. Briefly. God knows Izzy wasn't the only one whose bed had been empty for longer than she could remember, but this trip was about her friend, six months off of a hard divorce. 

“Maybe you should’ve brought him,” Jack said. “Pretty sure he wasn’t picky.”

Izzy turned her head and let out a laugh. “Yeah, but I am.”

Jack snorted her disbelief. “Sure. We’ll revisit that comment in a week. In the meantime, you’re getting your own room first thing tomorrow.”

“The sock on the door won’t pass?”

Sitting up with a groan, Jack rolled her eyes. “I’m not getting stranded at 2 in the morning.”

“Maybe you should find yourself an island lover.”

“Oh, god. Why do you have to say it like that?” Jack threw a pillow at Izzy. “Besides, it’s not an island, it’s a peninsula.”

Izzy waved off the deflection. Standing, she stretched and yawned. Padding her way to the bathroom, she said, “Tomato, tomahto. Wouldn’t hurt you to get lucky.”

The second pillow hit the bathroom door that closed a split second quicker than Jack could throw.

…..

“And _that’s_ the other reason you’re getting your own room,” Jack whispered to Izzy who was sprawled out and snoring. She didn’t mind, though, at least, not the ‘sprawling’ part. It gave her a chance to get out into the early morning, quiet and alone, nothing but the wind, the water and her board. It had been years since she’d last rode, and the psychologist in her knew she was still clinging on to the idea that she could never have that life again- life before Afghanistan- a life that had included surfing every day. Even now, she felt odd wearing a two-piece instead of the rashguard top she normally wore at the beach to keep inquisitive eyes from the scars on her back. But maybe this trip wasn’t just for her friend after all. She caught herself pulling the cover up tighter and forgave herself. 

_Baby steps._

The wind and the salt water forgave her, too, welcoming her to the quiet beach. There was no one else around to welcome the sun coming up, and she lifted her face to greet it before dropping her towel, phone and cover up onto the fine sand. She patted her board like an old friend and the two of them made their way into the water. Her toes clenched into the wet sand and she revelled in its coolness, waited for the water to lap over her feet. The walk into deeper water was measured and remembered, and she let out a little yelp when the ocean reached her breasts. A few deep breaths summoned up the courage to drop under the surface, submerging herself, becoming one with the water again, until she bobbed back up, exhaling an exhilarated gasp. Now accustomed to the temperature, she laid flat on the board and began leisurely paddling out towards the incoming waves, making sure to choose the calmer tides as a test run. Three minutes out and she decided it was ‘go’ time. Flattening her hands on the board, she pushed up, brought one foot underneath her, then the other and stood, knees bent, smile wide. The wave came up behind her and she rode the edge, shifting her weight from one side then to the other, racing the wave to the beach. When the inertia ran out, she flopped back into the ocean and let the tide carry her the rest of the way.

…..

As the sun rose higher and the beach got fuller, she felt satisfied she had pushed herself to the limit. She had quickly moved to the stronger tides and bigger waves and it felt like old times. She knew she had caught the attention of more than one beachgoer and figured that was her cue to find Izzy. Quickly drying herself off and throwing on the cover-up, she checked her phone.

_I’ve been up for hours! Where are you??_

Jack rolled her eyes and dialed the number.

“Hours, huh?” She could almost see the hand wave.

“Well, it seemed like it. I’m hungry.”

The petulance made her laugh. “There’s a restaurant a block from the hotel. On the corner. Give me 20 minutes.”

“If I’ve been swept away by a local boy because I’ve waited so long, don’t come crying to me.”

Jack could only shake her head, tuck the board under her arm, and make the trek back into town.

…..

Had she been 2 minutes longer, Izzy’s threat might’ve come to fruition, based on the sly smiles she was getting from the waiter.

"You don't wait long," Jack said, slipping into her seat.

Izzy shrugged. "You were right; it's time for me to move on." A shadow swept across her face, no doubt at the memory of her divorce.

Jack reached across the table to squeeze her friend's hand. "I'm not judging. You have all the right in the world."

Consoled, Izzy cheekily informed her, "That's why I got my own room this morning."

"Thank god. Your snoring!"

"I do not snore!"

Jack laughed. "Yeah, okay. So what's on the menu? Besides the waiter."

On cue, he arrived at their table. "Would you ladies like some more time to order or have you found something you'd like?" 

His smile went to Izzy, and Jack groaned.

…..

"Oh, why did I order all that?"

Both women were sitting back, letting the meal digest. Jack balanced her coffee cup in her palm and soaked up the morning. 

"Because you let Alejandro talk you into it,” she replied. “And if he talks you into anything else, go to the pharmacy first.”

Izzy’s eyes opened wide in mock horror. “Is this where you give me the birds and the bees talk, Mom?”

“I’m just saying, play safe.”

Izzy relented with a murmur. “So, we know what _I_ was doing all morning, how about you?”

Jack shrugged. “I went surfing.”

The cup stopped halfway to Izzy’s lips. “You what?” 

“I brought my board, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah,” she replied, “but whenever I ask you to go surfing, you find a reason to turn me down.” Before there could be a protest, she said, “I get it, Jack, I do.” She knew the history more than just about anyone, and because of that knowledge, she smiled broadly. “I’m so proud of you!” As if seeing Jack’s outfit for the first time, she arched an eyebrow. “In that?”

Jack knew exactly what she was getting at, knew how rare it was to have her back bare. “Yes, in this. There was hardly anyone there, and definitely no one who knew me.”

“Well, look at us.” She reached across to touch her cup with Jack’s. “Two women, moving on!”

Jack returned the toast. “To moving on.”

“Great,” Izzy said, downing the drink. “Now, let’s go shopping.”

“Thought you already saw something in the window you liked.” 

Izzy couldn’t stop the smirk from forming. “Very funny.”

“Am I wrong?”

Ignoring the question, she glanced around. “Shit, I forgot my wallet at the hotel.”

“That’s convenient.”

“But I left yours in Bodhi’s glove box.”

“Even _more_ convenient.” Jack sighed, pushing out her chair and standing. “I’ve got to strap the board on anyway. Left it outside. I’ll tell Alejandro to keep you occupied while I’m gone.”

…..

The cobblestone streets washed an old world feeling over her soul that she loved. Though tourists were starting to creep into the area over the years, the influx of money hadn’t changed the feel of the place, and for that, she was grateful. It felt like a second home from the moment she stepped out that morning, and she felt a peace she hadn’t had in ages. 

Her heart was still light when she got to the top of the small incline and saw him standing beside the Jeep. Tall and broad, about six feet high and nearly half that across the shoulders. She knew it was an illusion caused by the white T-shirt he was wearing, but he looked big, in an authoritarian sort of way, like the drill sergeants back in Fort Benning. But it was his eyes that stood out above all else, even under the pulled down brim of his baseball cap, even among the shaggy hair that peeked out and the scruff that nearly took over his face. She had never seen eyes so blue, so piercing, so… laser focused on her.

“This your Jeep?”

He skipped the preamble and got right to the point. She would have appreciated his directness had it not been so blunt. Though she could see the problem immediately, she chose to go on the defensive.

“Sure looks like it.” He muttered something in Spanish that caught her attention, and in a reply that was also in the local language, she replied, “ _I suggest you choose your next words carefully, Cowboy_.” He must not have been accustomed to someone volleying back his snark, because she saw him fight the tug at the corner of his mouth, though his raised eyebrows gave him away. His eyes went ocean blue and she wondered how she could keep them that colour. He seemed to have won the battle with himself, because his next question was just as terse as the first.

“So you can speak Spanish but you can’t read it?” He jerked his head in the direction of the _No Estacionar_ sign that was right in front of the Jeep's grill. 

As captivating as his eyes were, she narrowed hers at his gruffness. "I can, but I just assumed the sign was a relic. Like the truck I'm blocking in. You know, kinda giving it all that Old World vibe." She waved her hands around, like she was pulling in said vibe. She tried not to laugh at his expression. Tried and failed. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching out to touch his arm in apology. "A friend of mine actually parked it here. I'll move it. Let me just get this strapped on."

She hoisted the board onto the rack and was surprised when he helped her with it. 

"Tell your friend he's going to get you into trouble around here."

Her laughter softened to a grin. Though she didn't correct his assumption of her friend's gender, she did remark, "Oh, I'm pretty sure I can do that all by myself." Making sure the ties were tight, she then slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. "It was nice talking to you." She raised her hand to wave and winked when he did the same. 

…..

He caught himself just as his hand came up and he mentally head slapped himself. _Jesus, are ya 12?_ he asked himself, though he couldn't quite look away even as the Jeep turned down the street. He had seen enough California tourists in his nearly two decades in Mexico, but there was something about her, all her East Coast hustle with her sass and her smile. Her bronze came from the sun, her laugh came from somewhere easy and soft and… _And get your head outta the clouds, Gunn_ y. His silent admonishment got him moving, even if the image of a certain stranger stayed with him.

…..

"What are you grinning about?"

Jack had returned to the restaurant and was in the process of paying the bill when Izzy asked the question. Smiling at the girl at the counter, Jack replied, "Nothing. Just ran into a local. You need to learn how to read Spanish. Or at least what 'No Estacionar' is."

Ignoring the second part to focus on the first, Izzy purred, "Ooh, a local."

Jack could only shake her head. "Not like that. American. Now that I think about it, he sounded like he was from Pennsylvania."

"Your old stomping ground. Maybe you two know each other. "

"The state has over 12 million people. Pretty sure we don't know each other."

Izzy leaned in and wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe you should get to know each other."

"Oh, my God. Are we going shopping or are you going to matchmake all day?"

"You're right, I can matchmake whenever I want. I'll only get so many opportunities to use your credit card." Izzy snatched it out of her hand before she had the chance to pull it back.

…..

To her credit, she enjoyed window shopping more than actually buying, so Jack's card was safe. The friends walked up one side of the cobblestoned street lined with shops and down the other, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the handmade items, pointing and laughing at some of the more obvious tourist traps. Outside a store appropriately called The Surf Shop, Izzy's eyes lit up.

"You should buy a new surfboard!"

"Pardon?"

She nudged Jack's shoulder. "Come on. You went out surfing for the first time in forever. New page, new board." She pulled her into the shop before there could be any more protestations. 

The store was big and bright and they were greeted by The Beach Boys over the speakers. It was so cliché, intentionally so, that Jack couldn't help but burst out laughing. The sound caught the attention of an older man, black hair streaked with grey, his teeth white against his dark skin. The small but wiry gentleman weaved through the small cluster of customers to get to the new arrivals. 

"Welcome to the best surf shop in Todos Santos," he greeted, hands in prayer against his linen shirt. 

"I'm pretty sure you're the only surf shop we've seen," Izzy replied with a smile. 

He shrugged. "Perhaps no one wants to bother when they know Mario's is the best." Turning to Jack, he raised his chin. "You're here to buy a board."

"No," Jack said, just as Izzy said, "Yes."

"You haven't surfed for quite some time, but you're slowly getting back into it," he theorized. "And you're finding it's like riding a bicycle, but now you need to ride a new one. Especially for the competition."

Jack frowned at his astuteness but also at his suggestion. "Competition? No."

"Competition, yes," he repeated, his charm easy and natural. "I saw you this morning." When Jack inhaled sharply, he gently touched her arm. "I mean no harm by it, I assure you. You're not the only one who gets out before the birds. You're good. You're very good. Rusty, but that didn't take long, did it?"

There was something in his manner that put her at ease, and she relaxed her shoulders. "No."

"So for the tournament, you need a new board."

"I'm not-"

"I think I have just the thing," he went on as if he didn't hear her.

Recognizing a sales pitch when she heard it, Jack said, "And how much is this board going to cost?"

"So you _are_ going to buy one?" Izzy asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Jack shushed her with a look before telling the shop owner, "Let's hear it."

"Oh, I don't know how much he'll charge. Will depend on the mood the grumpy bastard is in." He issued the damning praise with a bright smile. 

"Wait," Jack said, "so you're not going to sell me a board from your own shop?"

"I know. Loco, right? But I have the feeling you need a very special board. And that can only mean one craftsman."

"Sounds like Mr. Myagi," Izzy whispered. "Wax on, wax off."

Ignoring her now that her interest was piqued, Jack asked, "Where do I find this craftsman?"

"Come with me," he said, waving them to the counter. "I'll draw you a map."

…..

The map consisted of some hash lines and Xs, marking spots like 'The Fish Hut' and 'The Rock with the Single Tree', and it took them 20 minutes to walk from the beach to the path that disappeared through the trees and rock until it opened up to a whole new cove. 

"I'd be in awe if I didn't just spend the last hour trekking through the jungle in flip flops."

Jack dismissed the complaint. "You're such a princess."

"Okay, Army Barbie. Ow!" She rubbed her shoulder where she got a hard backhand. 

"This is gorgeous," Jack said, soaking up the sights. It was a small cove but the sand was white and the water was a different blue than it was at the town's beach. There was just enough cover from the natural terrain to keep it private, and had they not just walked there, Jack would be hard pressed to believe the haven was only 20 minutes away from the tourist area. Two simple buildings sat back from the tide; one looked like a workshop and the larger one was evidently the living space, complete with a small covered porch. 

Izzy wasn't as sold on it. "We're not going to get kidnapped and thrown into a human trafficking ring, are we?" She protected her shoulder just in time to avoid another backhand. 

A young man came out of the workshop and jumped back at seeing the women. Jack held up a hand.

"Sorry. We were sent here by Mario. I'm looking for a new board. Apparently." She added the last bit, still trying to figure out how she got talked into it. "I've heard you're a real craftsman."

He let out a laugh. "I appreciate the words, especially from such a pretty lady, but I think you might mean someone else."

"Mig, what's takin you so-"

Jack saw the man step out of the same building, and the cloth between his hands stopped when he saw his visitors. 

"Of course," she said under her breath but loud enough for Izzy to hear. Seeing the questioning eyebrow, Jack filled her in. "The local I ran into this morning."

Izzy's eyes went from Jack to the man. "Mmmm," she softly purred. "Not bad. In an Ernest Hemingway Old Man and the Sea sort of way."

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Taking the initiative, Jack stepped forward and extended her hand. "Jacqueline Sloane. This is my questionable friend, Isabel Monet."

He looked down at her hand, then back to her face. "Gibbs."

Izzy narrowed her eyes. "Is that a first name? A last name? A nickname?"

Without looking away from Jack, he said, "Just 'Gibbs'."

"Well, 'just Gibbs', we just trekked through a mile of Amazon rainforest to get here because we heard you were The Guy to make her a surfboard."

"Is that so?" he asked, still looking at Jack.

"The bit about you being The Guy? That's what we were told. The part about the rainforest? I've been through worse with less."

"Ex-Army," Izzy helpfully supplied.

A private smile sketched across his mouth. "Right."

"Miguel Rodriguez," the young man introduced himself, "since I'll be waiting forever for Gibbs to do it. So what kind of board are you ladies looking for?"

Izzy pointed at Jack. "Just this one. I prefer the margaritas that come after the surfing."

Miguel tilted his head at Jack. "A board for you, then."

Gibbs butt in. "You couldn't afford me, ex-Army."

She blinked at his dismissal, then asked, "Living the high life on the Navy retirement package, huh?"

He didn't respond to the shot across the bow, but Miguel couldn't resist.

"How did you know he was in the Marines?"

Jack smirked at her accuracy. "Because there's only one kind of person who ever says 'Army' that way."

His lips twitched at the statement, but rather than reply, turned away and went back into the workshop. 

"Go, go," Miguel quietly urged her. "He didn't say 'no'." To Izzy, he said, "I could make you a drink, if you like."

"I like." She gave Jack a not-so-gentle push. "Go."

…..


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with most AUs, I end up doing a fair bit of research, and this was no exception. I learned more about surfing and building surfboards than I ever thought I would need to know. Lol! I didn't use one specific source, but I did use this video to see how it was done: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SbgxnsJ7Pk . It's 33 minutes long, but it time-lapses every step it takes to make a chambered wood surfboard and really helped me figure out certain scenes. It is a long, time-consuming process and it really does take someone with skill to make it. The amount of work put into it is incredible.

…..

The shop was deceptively bigger than it looked, one large building separated lengthwise into two rooms that were joined by a window that took up almost the entire upper half of the wall. The room she walked into was a showroom of sorts, with over 2 dozen boards on display. Through the window, she could see where the work was done, walls lined with tools and tarps. He had gone right to the back and she could see him sanding a board. Instead of going right to the workshop, she slowly made her way around the room, examining the boards. Her fingers gently brushed over the wood, marvelling at the craftsmanship, smiling at the results. She instantly knew the relationship between the man and the boy- he was clearly teaching Miguel how to make boards, because there was a subtle yet notable distinction between a handful of them. Not quite the same quality, just slightly lacking the detail. And they were brightly painted. She figured Gibbs was the kind of guy to bypass the flash and put all his work into the wood. 

And the work was good. She shook her head. It was very good. She knew enough about boards to recognize the quality and the time it took to create something that warmed her fingertips. Glancing up, she saw the man behind the boards watching her make her silent judgement and she rewarded him with a smile.

…..

He knew Mig would nudge her into the shop, but he wasn't sure she'd follow. He had made 6 passes with his sander before the door opened, but he kept his head down, peripherally watching to see what she'd do. The fact that she stopped to admire the boards told him a lot about her; she wasn't just interested in her own aims, she took time to admire everything around her. When his eyes followed her fingers in their almost sensual appreciation of one board in particular, he felt a heat in him that hadn't been ignited in years. She took that moment to look over and catch him in the act. Clenching his jaw and mentally berating himself, he pretended to return to his work.

…..

Satisfied with her perusal, she stepped into the shop's doorway, waiting for an invitation which he gave with a slight jerk of his head. Giving a nod of her own, she entered the space and quietly watched him stretch from the middle of the board to the tip with his sander, lifting it as he completed the path, only to bring it back to the middle again. It was a soothing pattern, not just to watch, but to hear and smell. The wood gave the room its aroma and it was instantly comforting. His forearms flexing on the upward motion didn't hurt, either. Nor his blue eyes laser focusing on the task at hand. 

"So you want a board." He didn't look up.

"Yes." Having seen the things he could create, she added, "I really do."

"Uh-huh." He ran a thumb along the edge, and seemingly satisfied, wiped it with a rag and dusted his hands on his shorts. With his index finger, he led her back into the first room. "I'm gonna need to see you surf first."

"Okay," she said, slightly caught off-guard by the statement. "When?"

"Now."

"Now?" She looked down at her attire, still in the two-piece she had worn that morning. The cover-up was doing its job, but she'd have to remove it to surf. Revealing her back, even to a stranger, gave her more than a little pause. She attempted to delay the moment by saying, "I don't have a board."

He arched an eyebrow around the room. "Take your pick. Gotta a couple nice 9-footers here."

She knew his offer of what was primarily a beginner board was partly to test her, partly to prod her. She suspected he was good at that. His face was impassive when she glared at him, even as she was contemplating her next move. 

"It's just me an' you, Army."

The softness in his voice made her wonder what he suspected of her, and she fought the impulse to drop her gaze to the floor. Instead, she lifted her chin, meeting his eyes. "That's 'Lieutenant' to you, E-5."

His laugh lifted the corners of her mouth. "E-7. Now, we gonna flirt all day or are you gonna surf?"

She bit the inside of her bottom lip. _To hell with it._ Brushing past him, she reached for one that was a foot taller than her height. Her hand swept down its length, appraising its gloss. "This'll do."

Her faint praise left him speechless as she lifted the board and walked out.

…..

She might have been all balls and bravado in the shop, but now, standing on the beach, she wasn't sure. It didn't help that her return had caught the attention of Miguel and Izzy who had been lounging on the porch. The duo came down to the sand with drinks in hand.

"Glad I'm payin' ya to be bartender, Mig."

He looked at Gibbs and shrugged. "I'm being a good host while someone actually thinks about paying us money."

Jack and Izzy were having their own not so private conversation.

"He wants to see me surf before he'll make me a board," Jack, answering Izzy's question before it could be asked. 

Izzy's eyes flicked over the two-piece and knew the reservations going through Jack's mind. "What do you want to do?"

Her eyes went to the horizon, letting the ocean air draw her in. A small breeze blew against her, billowing the cover-up around her, as if nudging her into her decision. "I guess I'm surfing."

…..

Gibbs had watched the exchange but remained silent. If he had any questions about her hesitation, he kept them to himself. He watched her wrap the leash around her ankle, double-checking for its secureness. She stood and brushed her hair from her face, looking as if she was giving herself one last pep talk. He didn't know the woman, but it struck him as odd; in the little interaction they had, she had come across as confident and smart as a whip. Her hesitation was a glimpse into something else. 

It was when she finally took off her cover-up that he understood. 

Miguel, bless the kid, kept his intake of breath mostly quiet once the scars were exposed, while he kept his own reaction to himself. No stranger to the pain one person could inflict on another, he recognized the damage for what it was, and he didn't like the way it looked across her skin. Wordlessly, they made eye contact with each other, and he made sure his face showed no signs of pity or sympathy. He suspected it was the last thing she wanted or needed. Her eyes seemed to soften at his response, and she tucked the board under her arm to walk into the ocean.

…..

"The waves are small," Izzy remarked, as the trio watched Jack paddle her way into deeper water. 

Gibbs squinted into the distance. "Doesn't need big waves if she's any good."

"Oh, she's good."

He hid his smile at her friend's defense of her character. "We'll see."

Once Jack realized the size of waves the ebb and flow of the water was going to create, she adjusted her expectations and stopped paddling, bobbing in the tide until she anticipated a crest and pushed herself to a standing position. With the wave being small, she pushed harder into the current, and rather than glide parallel to the curl, she cut high then low, pressed the board forward, then cut again, high then low until she ran out of propulsion and sunk into the water. Her head popped up and she did a slow forward crawl to the board that had stayed close because of the leash. She popped herself onto the board and began paddling out again. She did this three more times to the cheers of both Izzy and Miguel. Gibbs watched on, silently impressed.

"You didn't ask me about her scars," Izzy said.

Without looking away from the figure in the water, he replied, "Didn't think it was your story to tell."

"No," she agreed, impressed by his candor, "but most people don't see it that way."

"Gibbs isn't most people."

Izzy turned to Miguel. "No, I'm starting to see that."

Gibbs put two fingers between his lips and blew out a sharp whistle. When Jack turned to the sound, he waved her in.

"So are you going to make her a board or what?"

He smirked at the question but didn't reply.

……

"I can't decide if he's the sexiest man I've ever met, or the biggest asshole."

They were greeted by the town's beach after their return trek. He had agreed to make the board, but she had to come back in the morning so they could go over the details. She had balked at first, not wanting to leave Izzy to her own devices, but once they settled on a time that happened to be just past sunrise, Izzy assured her that the only device she'd be taking part in would be her bed. So agreements were made and a price was agreed upon before the women made their way back.

"You just don't like men who don't fawn over you," Jack said.

"When I asked him what he'd pair me with, he said 'a drink with a frilly umbrella'. I meant a board!"

Jack laughed at the recollection. "You can't blame the guy- you told him from the start you were more interested in margaritas than surfboards."

"Well, yeah, but that was before I saw what he could do. Those boards were beautiful."

"If it's any consolation, did you see his face when you said you'd pair him with some scissors and a razor?"

"I almost felt sorry for him," Izzy admitted. "When you laughed, he looked like you'd kicked a puppy."

"He did not."

"I think he likes you." She stretched out the observation in a sing-song voice.

"Stop. Don't you have a waiter to flirt with or something?" They arrived at the hotel and retrieved their keys from the reception desk.

Izzy shrugged as they made their way to their rooms. "That's tomorrow. Alejandro said he'd show me around. I hope you don't mind."

Jack knew that even if she did mind, it wouldn't do much to change Izzy's plans. She was a good friend but was more than a little self-centred. But that was just fine with Jack; the trip was meant to give Izzy an escape, and Jack was more than willing to be on her own. Izzy saw it slightly differently.

"So you can spend all day with Grizzly Gibbs if you want. And I know you do."

When her friend had a bit between her teeth, Jack knew she wouldn't let go, so she chose to ignore the tease. "What I really want right now is the biggest bowl of carnitas. So get changed and get your ass out here."

"Sure thing. Ex-Army."

…..

Her brain said, "You shouldn't have had those last 3 margaritas," to which she mumbled out loud, "I know," as she rolled over in the large bed, revelling in that perfect moment when the air was deliciously cool and the sheets were wonderfully warm. She was just about to burrow deeper into her pillow when she bolted upright and looked at the clock.

"Shit, shit, shit." 

She was supposed to meet up with Gibbs at 8AM, and according to the clock, that was in 30 minutes. Considering it would take her at least 20 minutes to get there, she was going to be cutting it close. Flipping back the sheets, she jumped in the shower, brushed her hair and got dressed in record time. Regretfully, she'd have to skip the coffee, but throwing on her good shoes and her sunglasses, she grabbed her phone and keys and was out the door.

…..

He raised an eyebrow from his porch when he saw her emerge from the trail and bend over at the waist. She must've sensed him watching her because she straightened up slowly and raised a hand. It took her another few minutes before she reached the porch steps.

"You run all the way?"

"In fact, I did." She closed her eyes and took in another deep breath. "Remind me to renew my gym membership when I get back to San Diego." 

"You know, you could always drive here."

Her eyes opened. "What?"

"There's a road that runs parallel to the trail. Not much of a road, but it gets me into town."

"Then why did Mario-? Wait until I see that guy."

He grinned. "Coffee?"

"Is there any other answer but 'yes'?"

His grin grew into a smile. "Come on in," he invited as he stood.

She followed him inside the cool home until he gestured to a table. Gratefully, she took a seat and a look around, though she kept her thoughts to herself. He placed a mug in front of her.

"Got no cream," he said by way of apology. "Can dig up some milk if you need it."

She shook her head. "Sugar if you have it, though."

He went into the small kitchen and returned with a small crystal bowl that caught her attention.

"Got it in the divorce," he deadpanned. 

His dry humour drew out a smile. "Ah."

He watched in mild horror as she scooped into the bowl three times. Three heaping times. Oblivious to his judgment, she tapped the spoon against the edge, then carefully placed it beside the cup. Her eyes closed in anticipation as she brought the coffee to her lips, inhaling deeply before taking a tentative sip. 

"Oh, this is good," she purred. His laughter made her eyes snap open, and a pink blush quickly stained her cheeks at being caught out.

"So where's your friend?"

"At this time of morning? Sleeping." She took another sip and a thought seemed to occur to her. "I could go get her. You know, if you want."

Was that disappointment in her voice?

He shook his head and took his own drink. "Not interested in her. Interested in you." He heard the words as they came out of his mouth and he backtracked ever so slightly. "Board's for you, isn't it?"

She tried to hide her smile behind her cup. "Where's your helper?"

Though she had changed the subject, their eyes remained locked on each other, and a charged tension grew between them.

"Miguel? Trade school in the mornings. Comes to get practical experience in the afternoons."

Pressing her lips together, she hummed. "Let me guess- mother is a single parent, Miguel's a good kid but has a tendency to get into trouble if left to his own devices. You knew her family or the father and you think you owe them a favour. Taking him under your wing is your way of repaying that favour."

The more she spoke, the higher his eyebrow went. 

"You some kinda head doctor?"

Her laughter brightened the small kitchen. "Psychologist, yes."

"Before or after you joined the Army?"

"During. Army helped me get my degree. How about you, Gunnery Sergeant?"

He smiled at her memory. "Nah. I was just there to point and shoot."

"I'm sure you did more than that," she said, mirroring his smile. "So what brought you to Mexico?" His eyes flitted down to his coffee and she quickly said, "Not my business. Sorry."

"Nature of your job," he replied, forgiving her curiosity. "Guess I was lookin' for a fresh start."

She nodded at the simple answer that held more weight than it appeared. "Me, too."

He wondered about her own simple reply, but rather than ask, chose to lift his mug. "To fresh starts."

Her cup tapped his. "To fresh starts."

…..

He led her to the back of the shop and gestured to the wood piles. "Pick a stringer, then we'll go with the rest."

"I liked the one I rode yesterday," she said. "Was that cedar?"

"Yeah," he replied, not hiding his pleasure at her knowledge.

"My dad was something of a carpenter," she explained with a shrug. 

He was having none of her self-deprecation. "That one?"

"Redwood?"

"That?"

"Pine."

"Maybe I should be getting you to build _me_ a board."

She bowed her head, warmed at his attention. "How about redwood for the stringer and cedar for the rest? Unless you had something else in mind?"

"You're the one payin' for it. But I got pieces of pine left over from a local church I need to use. Might throw that in, break up the run of cedar."

"It won't be too heavy?"

"I got plans."

"Sounds like a lot of work." When she only got a shrug in return, she looked at the two planks leaning up against the wall and visualized the dark grey wood among the white cedar. "I love it."

"Okay. I should have somethin' for you in about 2 days."

"Oh." She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but a light dismissal wasn't it. Hearing the disappointment in her voice, she downplayed it by saying, "Sorry. I don't know why I expected there to be more to it."

"Figured you didn't want to spend your day watchin' me cut wood."

It took her by surprise when she realized that's exactly how she wanted to spend her day. "Izzy's got plans of her own today, but I can always find something to do."

He looked at her for a minute, appearing to weigh his options. Reaching for the redwood piece, he handed it to her. "You can start by bringin' that into the shop." Her smile was infectious and he could only shake his head.

…..


	3. Chapter 3

…..

Three hours into the job and she was damn near bouncing around his shop. Every task he had given her, she had taken on with relish and completed without complaint. They shared his glasses when they both needed to lean over to lay down marks on the wood, and she practically basked in the shavings that billowed in the air when he cut out the shape with his jigsaw. She asked questions when necessary, but didn't feel the need to fill the silence with talk, and he found he enjoyed her company.

_Red alert, Gunny._

He ignored the warning as he placed a sander in her hand and turned her towards the board. "Push with the grain."

"Wait. You've got a power tool to cut the wood but you do _this_ by hand?" 

"Woulda cut it out by hand, too, but you need it by the end of the week."

"You would have-? Wow. Okay." 

Placing the sander in the middle of the board, she pushed it to the tip with her forearms. He came up behind her and put his fingers on her hips, waiting to make sure she didn't object, then gently placed his hand in the middle of her back and pushed her forward.

"Bend with your arms or your shoulders are gonna bitch in the morning."

He could feel her laugh vibrate into his palm, and the siren that sounded earlier in his brain became a full on blaring klaxon that his body chose to acknowledge but temporarily ignore. Her hips suddenly felt too damn familiar set in front of his, her warm skin through her high cut tank too damn good against the flat of his hand. If he leaned forward just the tiniest bit, he might be able to get a better idea of whatever the hell that smell was that drew him to her hair. But having no further excuse to be standing so close, and his body at last saying 'yeah, yeah,' to his brain, he stepped back and grabbed his own sander.

Was that a murmur of disappointment that rolled up her throat?

He shook his head and started sanding the opposite side. 

…..

She hadn't let a man touch her like that in years. Not with the soft assurance and quiet strength he had generated with a simple touch to her hips. To her back. Even with the clothing between them, she had let him rest his hand on a history that still crept up on her in the darkest nights. She knew he must have seen them the previous morning when she had paddled out in her swimsuit. But he hadn't asked, and she wanted to shout her thanks from the rooftops; too many men only wanted to prod and question. Maybe that's why she had given him silent permission when he had touched her hips. A way to thank him for not making the scars define how he saw her. 

They had done 3 passes with the sander, his big frame curling over her small one, not quite touching but close enough to feel his fingers press into her shoulder on the down push and relax when she returned to a standing position, could feel his breath against the dip of skin along the tank's collar. She could feel the exact moment he made the realization, because his hand slipped away and he stood straight and she couldn't stop the low disapproval that vibrated over the roof of her mouth. 

Her disappointment in his absence aside, she was glad he chose to cover up whatever was pulling between them, because she found she was enjoying the gentle tug.

…..

"You're done, Sloane." 

She stood up and dropped her sander in triumph. "I'd lift up my arms to cheer, but I'm pretty sure I'll never lift my arms again."

He snorted at her mixture of pleasure and pain. Leaving her to her groans, he grabbed a carpet knife and began cutting along the stringer seam. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, grabbing his arm.

He grinned at her shock. "How heavy do you think this board is?"

"Fifty pounds?"

"'Bout that. You wanna paddle that out into the waves?"

She remembered the board she pushed out the previous morning. It was deceptively light. "You're going go chamber the board." Seeing his appreciative grin, she warmed at his silent praise. "I'm not just some flighty California princess, you know." He had the grace to allow some red in his cheeks at the reminder of the words he said to her the first time they met.

"I'm findin' out. Hand me that flat blade." 

She reached back and placed the handle into his palm. After a few jimmies, the tool finished its job and the board split apart in the middle. He then undid every screw he had used to put the planks together and laid them all out. She came around to watch as he traced an outline of spaces he would cut out of the wood, turning the solid board into a framework of hollowed planks. He raised an eyebrow at her endless curiosity, but gave her enough space to see around his arm and follow his movements. He had done one piece and the stringer, then glued them together, handing her some sanding paper to smooth the cuts while he began to trace on the next piece. He was two more pieces into the task when a familiar face popped into the doorway.

"Oh!" the young man said, seeing the company. "Miss Sloane."

"Just 'Jack' is fine," she assured him with a smile. 

He grinned at her, looked around the shop, then grinned even wider at Gibbs, who tried to nip the kid's conclusion in the bud.

"She's my new assistant, Mig. You're fired."

Jack mock-gasped. "Stop!" Her hand slapped his chest. "I could never replace you," she told Miguel. "I love your work."

"Hear that, Boss? She loves my work." He puffed out his chest proudly.

Gibbs snorted. "This is gonna take me another half hour. Why don't you go show her your designs?" Seeing the eyebrows raise, he drawled, "That's not a euphemism, kid."

Jack slapped his chest again before putting her arm around Miguel's shoulder and leaving Gibbs to his job.

…..

He pretended not to sneak peeks through the window when they left, and he kept his grin to himself when he caught a glimpse of Miguel wiping a stool seat for Jack to sit on. The 22-year old had his own admirers, both local girls and tourists, but Gibbs wasn't sure he'd ever seen the man do the fawning. But there he was, wiping the seat, getting her a drink and being more attentive than he'd ever seen. Not that he could blame the kid. Less than a day in her presence and _he_ was ready to give his right arm for another hour with her. While the two pored over Miguel's portfolio, they were also deep in conversation, and Gibbs wondered what it was about.

…..

"Let me get that for you," Miguel said, as he reached for the stool before Jack did. Placing in on the floor, he wiped it with his hand and offered it with a grin. "Would you like a Jarritos?"

"Oh, yes, please. Lime?"

"Of course." He reached under the small island in the middle of the room and produced two glass bottles. He popped the tops and handed her one. 

"So let's see these designs."

"Really?"

"Of course," she said, echoing his own words.

"Okay." Almost shyly, he pulled a small portfolio out from a drawer and placed it on the counter top. 

She waved him to her side. "Come sit. I want you to tell me all about them."

There was no 'almost' to his reaction, his cheeks and ears going red. But to his credit, he went around the island with his stool and sat beside her. He glanced up at the window but Gibbs appeared to be deep into the work.

"Are these from oldest to newest," she asked.

"Yes."

Slowly and methodically, Jack flipped the pages, uttering a soft 'oh' at one or two that caught her attention. "I can see your progress," she told him, flipping from her place in the middle of the book to the first page. "See how your lines are so much stronger? Your confidence is growing. Did you go to school for this? Or is this something you've been doing your whole life?"

"My mother wanted to be an artist. I must get it from her."

Jack's finger traced over one of the floral designs. "Is her name 'Juana'?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes."

"You put her name in every piece." She tapped the hidden name amongst the flowers.

He was so proud she thought he'd burst. "Not many people see it."

She flipped another page and asked, "How exactly did you and Gibbs meet?"

Miguel's eyebrows slowly rose. "Ah, you think- no, not like that. My father served with Gibbs in the Corps."

Jack's eyebrows also rose. "Your dad is an American?"

"Yes. Was." 

His face immediately fell and she reached out for his hand. "I'm sorry."

"He had… troubles. I was only a baby when it happened." He seemed to garner some strength from her touch, because he was able to continue in a stronger voice. "He left this piece of land to us, and Mom wanted to give it to Gibbs. He said 'no', but came to Mexico to make sure we were okay. Twenty years later…" Miguel laughed.

"So he ended up saying 'yes'?"

He shook his head. "No. He said he didn't feel right about it, but he pays the taxes and gives her a little bit of money every month. Half of his Navy retirement package." He winked at the sly reference to her earlier words.

"Where do you live?"

"Cabo. It has the best trade school and I'm a year away from my degree."

The word made her tilt her head. "Not carpentry."

"No, Gibbs said I didn't need to pay for that when he'd teach me for free. Computers." He gestured to the workshop where Gibbs was sanding yet another piece. "See that closet in the corner? That's the shop's computer room." He laughed. "I have so many programs on that thing that show different cuts and schematics of boards, but that man is old school. He barely lets me maintain a website for the shop."

"That's how he sells his boards," she said, nodding at the realization. "I was wondering."

"Oh, wait until the competition this weekend! All of these?" He waved around the room. "They'll be gone." A thought occurred to him. "Are you entering? Is that why you wanted a board?"

"No, no, no. I'm not that good."

"There's an amateur competition," he argued. "I enter every year."

"I bet you're very good," she said, hoping to steer the topic away from her.

"Nah, I'm horrible! But I like the water."

"Uh-huh. That's what those trophies are for, right?" She jerked her chin up to the shelf high on the wall.

Miguel's lips twitched mischievously. "You think those are mine?"

Her eyes flickered to the man in the workshop, then back to Miguel. "Really??"

"He hasn't entered for almost 10 years. Had surgery on his knee and wasn't really ever the same. But yeah."

"Wow."

"So you're entering."

"That's not a question."

"Nope."

She narrowed her eyes though she couldn't stop the grin from forming. "If he's got that board done in time, we'll see." The biggest smile spread across his face and even her stern repeat of, "We'll see!" couldn't stop it from growing.

…..

"So now what?" she asked when they returned to the workshop.

The board was put back together with clamps and glue that was currently seeping out of the joints.

"Now we're done. 'Til tomorrow anyway."

"Oh." 

He almost laughed at her pout "Gotta let the glue set, Jack. And I got other boards to work on in the meantime."

"Well that doesn't make a girl feel special at all." Her voice was faux-indignant did bring out the laugh. "But then, I understand you've got some business to do this weekend."

He thinned his gaze at Miguel. "What else ya tattle about, Mig?"

He looked up at the ceiling and pursed his lips. "Can't think of anything else. Can you, Jack?"

"Oh, it's just 'Jack' now, is it?"

"She said!"

She grinned at the banter. "No, I can't think of anything else you might've told me, Miguel."

"See?"

Waving a tool between them, he said, "Uh-huh."

"He'll start glassing it tonight," Miguel said. "Come back tomorrow and help with the rest." Seeing Gibbs' stare, he shrugged. "What? I can't be around to help you 24/7, man."

"'Man'?" he repeated. 

"Before I become a witness to a violent act, I should go. I'm supposed to meet up with Izzy for dinner."

"Try The Taco Truck," Miguel suggested. "Makes the best fish tacos. Gibbs says so."

"Do you not have anything else to do?"

Miguel shrugged at Gibbs' question. "I could update the website if you let me."

"Go. Update the web thing."

Jack touched Miguel's arm. "Thank you,"

"'Thank you' for what?" Gibbs asked once Miguel was out of earshot.

"Do I need a specific reason? He's a good kid. I like him."

"He likes _you_." He wiped his hands and aimed the rag at a nearby pail.

Jack arched her eyebrow at his feigned nonchalance. "I like my meals with a little seasoning." The rag completely missed the mark. "Anyway, I should go." She touched his arm, but with a different intent than she had with Miguel. Her touch was softer on his forearm and lingered just a little longer. "Thank you." Her words, exactly the same as those she had said to Miguel also had a different weight to them. She had spent the morning and nearly the entire afternoon with a stranger, yet the closeness she had felt with him made her feel like she had known him for decades. She had found an ease within herself that had long been missing. Glancing down at her hand still on his arm, she shook her head with a smile. "I'm going now."

She took his nod as his goodbye, but when she got to the door, he said, "Sloane?" She turned to his voice. "You did good work today." Pausing as if sifting through a pile of words, he added, "Could use your help tomorrow. If you got the time."

She pointed her finger at him and mimed shooting a gun. "For you, Cowboy? I'll make time."

…..

Izzy breathlessly entered the hotel foyer. "Have you been waiting long?"

Jack looked at her watch. "Only 40 minutes."

"I'm sorry, I just got carried away with Antonio. He took me to this little cove about an hour away and-"

"Wait. 'Antonio'? What happened to Alejandro? Are you working through the alphabet?"

Izzy made a face. "Don't be silly. I met him at the club last night." She must've seen the look on Jack's face because she quickly said, "Ready to eat?"

"The club, huh? When was this?"

"You were already in bed," she said, going on the defensive. 

Jack didn't have the energy to argue, and she knew, if push came to shove, she didn't really have a leg to stand on, either, considering she had spent the day with a stranger. "Just be careful, okay?"

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? The whole point of this trip was to get you out again. I'm glad you're doing that, Izzy. Really, I am."

Izzy pulled her up into a hug. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Is this your way of saying you forgot your wallet again?"

They parted and Izzy took Jack's hand. "Come on. Let's go eat. My treat."

…..

"We're in Mexico, the ocean literally a stone's throw away and you don't want to eat fish?"

Izzy sipped her drink from their small table outside the restaurant. "I told you you could order fish here." When the only reply was a generic hum, she asked, "What's that? 'Mmmm.' What's that mean?" Not waiting for a reply, she took another sip then tilted her head. "I haven't asked you what you did today."

Jack was used to her friend's sudden changes in conversation, though this one was apt to go in a direction she didn't want. The last thing she needed was Izzy latching on to the fact she spent time with Gibbs.

"You went to see that sexy Marine."

"Oh my God."

"Let's hear it. Every detail. Spill."

"There's nothing to spill. I went to pick out wood for the board and ended up staying longer than I thought."

"Doing what?" Izzy waggled her eyebrows.

"Have I said 'Oh my God' yet?" Knowing there would be no let-up until she gave some information, she said, "Helping him with the board. We got a lot of it done today." The last words were said proudly, separate from whatever else had happened between them that afternoon.

"You like him."

"Izzy-"

"Your voice goes all soft and you get this wistful look on your face. Or maybe it's wanton."

"Stop!" The lightness in her voice gave way to irritation. "He's just- he's just a really nice guy. Can't say I've had many of those in my life lately."

All teasing cast aside, Izzy asked, "Tell me."

She dropped her chin into her hand and sighed. "I don't know. He's quiet but in this way that doesn't make me feel like I have to fill in the silence. I can just _be_. And he's-" She sat up and waved her hands. "Solid. He's big and solid and he makes me feel safe and I know as a modern independent woman, it's outdated, but-"

"You _really_ like him."

Jack sighed but laughed at how Izzy boiled it down to a simple sentence. "That's what you got out of all that, huh?"

"What more is there to get?" Reaching across the table, she rested her hand on Jack's. "Sweetheart, I've had a hell of a year, but you've had a hell of a decade. And if you want to let go and let his big arms catch you, what's wrong with that?" She saw the hesitation. "Listen. Enough thinking. I'm going to take you to the club tonight and we're going to do a little dancing and a lot of drinking. Or the other way around."

"I can't believe you went back out last night," Jack marvelled. "I could barely drag my ass out of bed this morning."

"You want to know my secret?"

"Wait until the afternoon to get up," they laughed in unison.

…..


	4. Chapter 4

…..

She didn't know where her friend got the energy, but she gave her credit when midnight rolled around and she was still going strong. Jack, on the other hand, was feeling the effects of a day's work that even the alcohol couldn't quite dissipate. They had met a group of women on a girls' retreat and they assured her they'd watch over Izzy. Grateful for the help and the escape, Jack found directions to a place off the main street and was summoned by spotlights above the food truck that guided her the rest of the way. The sign outside the truck proudly said "Family owned for over 50 years!" and she was sure the woman who greeted her had been there from the beginning. 

White tendrils framed a dark face that smiled and asked, "What can I get for you?"

"I've been told this is the best place to get fish tacos," Jack replied.

"Ah, a local told you, huh? We don't get many tourists travelling off the main."

"Yes, a local. American who builds surfboards? Scruffy but handsome."

"Gibbs!"

Jack grinned. "Yes! Gibbs."

The woman jerked her head to a spot behind Jack. Turning, she saw the name put to the man. 

"Rita," he said to the woman in the window. To Jack, he said, "'Scruffy', huh?"

"I added 'handsome'," Jack said in her defense. 

"Four tacos, Rita."

"Give me 5 minutes," she told him before disappearing into the truck.

'What are you doing here?" Jack asked.

He looked around. "Gettin' fish tacos."

She laughed at the obviousness of his answer. "Sorry, I just didn't picture you as the kind of guy who ventures out after midnight to get truck food."

With playful eyes, he asked, "What kinda picture did you have of me?"

"Oh, I'm not getting tricked into that!"

He tilted his head back and forth, appreciating the dodge. "So what are _you_ doin' here, Jack?"

"I was told this was the best place to get fish tacos, and since my friend doesn't like fish, meaning I didn't get any for dinner, I had to wait until I could sneak away from the club to find it." She heard her run-in sentence. "I hope my stomach can handle the alcohol and the tacos."

"It'll handle at least 1 of those things," he assured her. "Good luck with the 2nd."

Rita returned with the food. "Four tacos."

Gibbs handed her some money, and handed Jack two tacos.

"Oh, you didn't have to."

"I know." Wordlessly, he led her to a nearby table, its quaint covering clamped on with clothes pins, its metal seats thick with decades of repaint. He dropped a stack of napkins in the middle of the table. "We'll need those."

He wasn't wrong. The tacos spilled everywhere, in all their delicious glory. Jack was all but purring with delight, and Gibbs found it dangerously distracting. She caught him staring and quickly brought her hand up to her mouth.

"Do I have food on my face?"

He shook his head. "You look nice." 

If she thought the words were as lacking as _he_ thought they were, she didn't show it. In fact, he was sure he saw her cheeks flush with pink. She looked down at her sundress and offered a shrug tinged with embarrassment. "About as daring as I was willing to get," she admitted.

"Nah. I like it."

She pushed the last bite into her mouth and wiped her lips with the napkin. She watched him do the same, tracked the bump in his cheek and the way his Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed. She must have been staring longer than she thought because his blue eyes met hers and held.

"Do I have food on my face?"

She laughed at the repetition of her earlier question. "No. I was just wondering what you looked like with a High and Tight."

"Like a Jarhead."

Her hand came across the table to slap his. The other came up to her mouth to cover the burp.

"You're not gettin' sick, are ya?"

"No. Not yet, anyway."

"Maybe we should go walk it off."

The suggestion was casual, though his expression wasn't so confident as he waited for her reply to his hopeful gambit.

"That sounds wonderful."

He used gathering the garbage as a way to disguise the unexpected warmth that rushed through him, though Jack's weren't the only set of eyes taking it all in.

"Make sure you bring her back sometime!"

Gibbs knew better than to try and out glare the 70-year old matriarch who only laughed at him with her all-knowing gaze.

…..

The beach wasn't as quiet as she thought it might be at 1 in the morning, and she found it irritated her. Not that she envisioned a romantic walk along an empty beach with a Marine, not _really_ , but the lack of true privacy was an annoyance. She pushed aside the hypocrisy of the beach being filled with tourists while she was one herself. Still, even with an audience here and there, he didn't seem to mind when she moved closer to him to avoid a rowdy beach party and never moved back. Their shoulders bumped on every second step, and their hands brushed against each other even more frequently. He was quiet throughout it all, and like so much about him, she found it comforting. They walked past The Surf Shop hut along the beach that was advertising the annual weekend festival. 

"Mig said you're entering the amateur competition."

His voice was low and even in the night air, and his timbre made her hum. "Did he?"

"He did."

"I just might." Her own conviction caught her off-guard and he laughed.

"Just how much did ya drink?"

"Too much," she admitted, "but I'm done for the rest of the trip. Don't think my teacher would appreciate me coming to class with a hangover." It took him a second to figure out she meant him, and when he shook his head, she thought he was objecting to the label. "Instructor?" she suggested. "Professor?" 

She said the last one in a tone that got his attention. All over. And even in her feelgood stage, she recognized his reaction. His eyes, generally so bright, had gone stormy grey, and it sobered her up immediately. The light from a nearby bonfire made his bottom lip shine where his tongue had swiped across it and she mirrored his action by doing the same. She waited for whatever words were hovering near the lips that had her transfixed.

"School night," he said. "I should get you home."

They weren't the words she wanted to hear, but more than a small part of her adored him for his chivalry. 

"Just up the crest," she said, looking down the beach. Under the pretense of uncertain footing in the deeper, drier sand, she curled her hand around his bicep and tried not to smile when he didn't object.

…..

He was pretty sure if he put his arm around her, she'd fit right into his side, especially after she'd taken off her sandals to walk through the sand. She was something to be protected but he had no doubt, something to be feared, too. He had yet to see her get feisty, and was damn sure he wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. She was somehow an enigma by being the most open person he'd ever met. Her smile and her eyes were honest and simple, even if the scars on her back hinted at parts of her that were hidden and complicated. Her hair blew in the wind and it took everything in him to not reach over and brush it aside. Instead, he kept his hand balled at his side and watched her try to tame the unruly wisps. 

_You're beautiful._

When her eyes met his, he thought he had blurted it out loud, but she was only gesturing to the entrance to the small hotel. 

"My stop."

He shook his head. "The train goes right to the door."

She laughed. "Okay."

They walked down the quiet hallway, her arm still looped in his, until they got to her door. 

"Definitely my stop."

"Mmmm." He was never a man who would use 10 words when 1 would do, but he was starting to wish he were, if only this once. 

She stood on tiptoes and chastely kissed his jaw. "Good night."

He had been hoping she would've made up for his lack of words and frowned at the events that didn't turn in his favour. 

_Exactly what were you hopin' for, Gunny?_

She turned to slide the card into the door and it would've been easy just to follow her in. But instead, he said, "Bright 'n' early. Door's always open." He waited until she closed hers before he headslapped himself.

…..

When she turned the handle at 8 in the morning, she realized he wasn't kidding- his door _was_ always open. Just as she was about to announce her arrival in the entrance, she heard Gibbs and a woman arguing in Spanish from the small kitchen. Caught between staying and going, she froze on the spot.

_"Just sell the damn place."_

_"I will not! They'll have to drag my ass off the property before I sell it to those bastards."_

_"Well, technically, it'd be my ass."_

_"Don't argue."_

_"An' don't be stubborn."_

_"Says the man whose picture is in the dictionary beside the word!"_

He muttered something Jack couldn't hear, but the woman plainly did, though she replied in such a flurry of Spanish, Jack couldn't understand it all. Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, she quietly opened the door and gave it a slight slam. The voices in the kitchen stopped. 

"'Morning," Jack said brightly on her way to the kitchen, as if she was unaware what had transpired. "Oh, sorry!"

The woman turned to her and narrowed her eyes like she was trying to place where she had seen Jack. Despite the heated argument not 2 minutes ago, her eyes widened and her smile broadened. "You must be Jack. Miguel's told me all about you. _He's right- she's gorgeous._ " 

The last bit was for Gibbs, and he quietly warned, " _Careful. She speaks Spanish_."

Her face went red and Jack waved away the poor woman's embarrassment. "You're Juana. Miguel showed me his designs. You must be very proud."

Gibbs snorted. "Proud. Stubborn. Pain in the-"

" _Are we back to this again? I will sort it out but you deserved to know._ " To Jack, she said, "I hope you have more patience with this _gringo_ than I do." The true depth of their relationship was revealed when, despite the heated argument, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. " _And please shave that before the festival. You're the face of your business, and business looks rough._ "

Jack chuckled under her breath and lowered her eyes to avoid his unamused glare.

"It was very nice to meet you, Jack. Don't let my son bother you too much."

Jack shook her head. "He's a good kid. Obviously gets it from his mother."

"See?" she said, looking at Gibbs. " _Why can't you be nice like that? Don't speak_." She cut him off when his mouth opened. "I should go. We'll talk about this." Her eyes went to the paper on his table. " _Adiós_."

When she left, Gibbs brought down an extra mug and poured Jack a coffee without prompting, placing it and the sugar bowl in front of her. She sat and looked at the paper, and he shrugged. 

"Read it if you want."

She glanced at the top sheet, and though she couldn't read Spanish as well as she could speak it, she quickly got the gist.

"The Mexican government is forcing her to… build a road? In 30 days. Or they're going to fine her 800,000 pesos?"

"Yep, that's the idea." He took a sip and saw her head tilt, encouraging more detail. "Landmark Architecture's buyin' up the surrounding land from the Mexican government. But this piece belongs to Juana. Just so happens that the thing that passes for a road is on her land, and according to the Federal Lands bill, you can't have 2 parallel roads within 50 yards of each other if they don't meet."

Jack started to piece it together. "So this Landmark company wants to throw up some resorts, but they can't build the road to get them access to the town, because Juana owns the road."

"Such as it is."

"So she needs to build the road or the government's going to fine her."

"It's a trumped up threat," he said, glowering into his coffee. "Damn road's been just fine for them for the last 20 years. Now, all of a sudden, it's an emergency vehicle liability."

"And they've only given her 30 days because they think she can't raise the money to do the construction."

"The 800,000 pesos is their idea of a joke- it's what they offered her for the land."

"But that's less than $40,000," Jack objected. "The land's worth way more than that!"

"Yep."

"How much will it cost to build the road?"

"That's the other half of the joke- about $40,000."

A line formed deep between her eyebrows. "Bastards knew that. They're basically rubbing it in her face. So what are you going to do?"

He shrugged as he emptied his mug. "Nothing right now. She just brought it down this morning. Got a board to finish."

That he could put her board ahead of everything made her object. "Forget my board! This is so much more important."

"And I'll deal with it later. Give me a chance to think about it, Jack."

She realized she was pushing him into something that not only was he not prepared for, but perhaps wasn't even ready to face. She touched his hand before downing the rest of her coffee. "Come on, Professor. Got a board to build."

…..

Working first, thinking later was the plan, but it was clear to Jack that he was trying to burn the candle from both ends. Because once they entered the workshop, he got quiet. Quieter than what she assumed was 'normal Gibbs' quiet. But he was channeling whatever frustration he had through his hands, and she could feel the impatience in his strokes from her side of the board. He had laid the fibreglass layer the night before, and the morning's schedule was destined to be filled by sanding and re-sanding away the roughness left by the protective coat. They were 30 minutes into the task when his sander pushed forward and off the board's tip, gouging the curve.

"Damn it!"

Quickly, she came around to his side and put her hands over his, using her unspoken patience to settle him. They stood facing each other in silence, and she watched his chest until it rose and fell in a calm rhythm. When she was satisfied, with her hands still on his, she shifted to his hip and pressed the sander against the wood. Because of his size, she couldn't stand behind him to help, so she remained at his side, pushing his hands along the edge where the epoxy had left a hard ridge. When they got to full stretch, she pulled his hands back and returned them to the start once again. 

She remembered what she had told Izzy about him being solid, and she wondered if that even covered it. He was warm, even in the Marine T-shirt that was probably older than Miguel. He smelled of cotton and wood and coffee and the ocean, and she took a chance and brushed her nose against the shirt's sleeve, inhaling and memorizing every distinctive scent. Her arms weren't nearly as long as his, so her stretch was a shorter length, but he let her guide him, let her forearms press against his until she lifted their hands and brought them back to the beginning. She did this several times until she felt him relax into her touch, felt him lean into her body. It took her several minutes to realize they had stopped sanding even if they hadn't relinquished their hold on each other. Her eyes looked into a kaleidoscope of blue that looked back. 

She would kick herself later for breaking the moment by asking, "You want to talk about it?"

He frowned, momentarily confused by the question, then his eyes shuttered when he figured out what she meant. Pulling his hands away, he pretended to turn his attention back to the board. 

"Talkin' doesn't solve anything."

She dropped her hands to her side. "Wow. That only completely undermines my entire job." Her smile lifted some of the weight from her accusation. "And several peace treaties over the centuries might disagree with you." When he didn't reply, she knew the morning was a wash, could recognize his need to be alone, even if she was beginning to realize she wanted the opposite. With a gentle reverence, she brushed her hand down the board. "Listen, I should leave you to it. I'm only here for another three days and I should probably check out more of Todos Santos besides the local surfboard guy." Her laugh was self-deprecating but soft. 

He waited for her to say more, but when she only made a step towards the door, he reached out to touch her wrist. "Come back in the mornin'." It was as much of a question as it was a statement, and when he saw her nod, he said, "Just gotta take care of a few things. Startin' with this." His thumb flicked over the gouge he had left, his anger at himself written in the lines in his face.

"Leave it; gives it character." She turned her hand over to squeeze his fingers. "I'll see you in the morning."

…..

Such were the amount of thoughts going through her head that she almost didn't see Izzy sprawled out on the chair under the umbrella. She wasn't sure Izzy had seen her until she heard, "Trouble in Surftown?"

"You know, you'll get more attention if you sunbathe at the beach instead of at the pool."

Izzy waved away the suggestion. "But then who will get me margaritas?"

Jack looked around. "Where's Antonio? Or have you moved to the Bs now?"

"Very funny. Carlos is picking me up later." She tapped the seat beside her with the fashion magazine that was resting on her lap. "Sit. Spill."

Knowing she wasn't going to get by without a fight, Jack slumped into the long patio chair and gave her the rundown of what had transpired that morning.

"Bastards," Izzy whispered.

"That's what I said. And yet, here we are."

"So what's he going to do?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess it really comes down to, what is Juana going to do? It's her land."

"But he'll feel compelled to help. He's got that protector look about him."

Jack couldn't help but smile at the assessment. "I think he's stewing over it right now, trying to figure out how the hell he's going to come up with $40,000 in 30 days."

Izzy contemplated the dilemma. "Surely he can sell those boards. They're gorgeous."

"By the sounds of it, the festival clears out his stock, but I can't imagine that's going to be more than $10,000."

"Guess it's a start."

"I would've brought 2 if I'd known you had a friend, Isabelle. And such a beautiful one."

Jack looked up at the dark visitor and quirked her lips. "You must be Carlos." She stood and held out her hand which he took and pressed his lips against. Izzy winked over her sunglasses. "And I must be going. Very nice to meet you, Carlos." She looked down at Izzy and mouthed, "Be good!" before carrying herself to her room. She changed her tank top, grabbed her wallet and stepped out onto the street.

…..


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lost Chapter- this story lived here on AO3 for 4 months until I realized IT WAS MISSING A CHAPTER. I Gibbs-headslapped myself.

She had only been half-joking with Gibbs about needing to explore the town beyond the cove on the other side of the beach. Alone, she missed the boisterous spirit of her friend, but found a quiet comfort to keep her company. Her walk along the main, previously full of noise and chatter, was a slow, silent amble that allowed her to soak in everything in her own time. She walked it less as a tourist and more as someone who appreciated everything that was on offer. The foot traffic was growing as the days got closer to the festival, but she slipped through the groups with ease, in no hurry, with no destination in mind.

And yet, she somehow found herself inside The Surf Shop for the second time, and her arrival didn't go unnoticed by the same older man who had greeted her the first time.

"That sheepdog must be crazier than I thought if he turned you away," Mario said with a grin. 

His smile was infectious, and one Jack gladly returned when she deciphered his greeting. "No, he didn't turn me away. I pick it up tomorrow."

"Good, good! So you're here to sign up for the competition. Let me get the form." With a gentle tug, he brought her to the counter before she had a chance to object. "One hundred dollars to enter. The winner gets $5000; what second place gets is of no interest to you." She couldn't help but laugh at his flattery. "The rest of the money goes to charity. You will surf on Saturday, unless you want to compete with the beachheads on Sunday?"

"I'm not that good, no."

He slipped the form and a pen under her hand. "Festivities start Saturday. Beach breakfast early morning, competition through the day. Food on the main all day and into the night. Entry into the competition will get you a food ticket for one meal. Then you come to the auction Saturday night and stay for the fireworks. Sunday is hangover day."

She took in the information barrage with wide eyes, and found herself signing the sheet and handing over the money. He tucked it into his shirt pocket with a grin.

"Good! Now, tell me about the sheepdog." Before she could decide on what to tell him, he leaned closer, "I know about the notice, about the road." Seeing her hesitation, he said, "Juana was in earlier looking for my cousin Ernie. He does construction."

Grateful that she wasn't betraying a confidence, she sighed, "I don't know what they're going to do."

Mario nodded. "Thirty days and 800,000 pesos. Not to mention how much it will cost to get the building licence through the Mexican red tape." He exhaled deeply. "But," he added, squeezing her arm, "we take care of our own. We will do what we can. Now, enough of that! Have you tried the tequila at Limantour?"

…..

She wished she hadn't tried the tequila, because between that, the walking and the sanding, she was exhausted. She hadn't heard a word from Gibbs, and realizing she hadn't given him her number in the first place didn't make the disappointment go away. A knock on the door made her lift her head from the pillow.

"Come on, Jack. I know you're in there."

Dragging herself up, she padded her way to the door. "Izzy."

"You look like shit."

"Hello to you, too." Stepping aside, she let Izzy into the cool room. She checked the hallway. "No Carlos?"

"No. Was feeling a little guilty I wasn't spending any time with my best friend. And he's got to work tonight. Tourists have started coming in for the weekend and the club's going to be busy with 'Bennys', whatever that means."

"That means us, Izzy. Tourists."

She shrugged off the tag. "So you coming out?"

Jack ran her fingers through her hair and twisted an elastic around the tail. "I thought I'd take the board out for a bit."

"Scruffy Jarhead finally finish it?"

She ignored the jibe. "No. Tomorrow. But I need to get some practice in." She let Izzy figure out the rest. It didn't take long.

"You entered the tournament!" The squeal was even louder when it was pressed into her ear with Izzy's tight hug. Pulling back and framing Jack's face, she repeated with pride in her voice,"You really entered the tournament."

"One of us has to pay for this trip."

Izzy was having none of Jack's casualness. "You're really surfing again." As was her way, she couldn't stay serious too long. "Imagine- 10 years of therapy when all it took was 3 days with Mr. Blue Eyes. You should ask for your money back."

"Are you coming down to the beach to pretend you're watching me or not?"

"Let me get changed. I bought a blue bikini this afternoon that I'm dying to suntan in."

Jack just shook her head. 

…..

She wore her rashguard instead of her bikini, but even the extra layer didn't diminish how good the water felt as it sluiced over her body. She had always found it funny, being a girl from Philadelphia, that she was so drawn to the water. One of the reasons she had accepted the position in San Diego was its proximity to the ocean, even if she had stopped taking advantage of it over the years. Just standing on her balcony and smelling the water had gotten her through some tough nights. She often wondered if her aversion to dry deserts had only magnified her love of the water. Straddling her board, she let the ebb and flow rock her back and forth as she scanned for a change in the lines. So much of surfing was waiting, but she found solace in being alone with the ocean below and the sun above. Her eyes closed until she felt the tides shift under her dangling feet, and she quickly dropped down to her stomach and began paddling towards the horizon.

…..

In the two mornings she had gone to Gibbs, he had been up and at 'em well before she got there, but she was determined that the third day would be different. Which was why she dragged her ass out of bed at 5 in the morning and emerged from the footpath just before 6- only to discover she was wrong. But she felt no frustration at being beaten to the punch again, not when the reason was making its way out into the cove. She stopped 10 feet onto the beach when she saw him on the board, his black wetsuit dark against the morning dawn even as the board was white against the water. She watched him pass the water line that separated the inlet from the ocean, paddling into deeper water. The waves that faded into the cove had to start somewhere, and that's where he was going. His journey seemed to be a lazy one, like he was in no hurry to get anywhere, had all the patience in the world to wait for the perfect wave. 

He didn't have to wait long.

She saw it just as quickly as he did, and she watched his paddle become more aggressive as he tried to meet the wave at just the right moment. Timing it perfectly, he turned the board around and popped up on both feet just as the curl started to form. Instead of letting the wave bring him in, he cut the board to the left and grabbed the edge with his right hand, bending under the crest and gliding through the barrel. She lost sight of him as the white water foamed on the break where the wave's tip returned to the ocean, but he quickly came into view again, his line being so clean that he was able to stretch out the surf, turn the board with the tide, and let the wave bring him into the cove. He didn't cut into the smaller wave the way she had done 2 mornings earlier, but she remembered what Miguel had said about his knee, so she wasn't surprised when he drifted into the shallow water as the wave died away. 

It was when he walked out of the water onto the wet sand that she realized he was riding her board.

"I better get a discount!"

…..

His head swiveled up and to the side at the sound, and his surprise gave way to his smile at seeing her. "Gotta make sure the customer doesn't bitch the board doesn't go straight." 

She stood in black shorts and a white tank top that set off her tan, and a smile that set off everything else. Her hair blew in the wind despite the ponytail she had captured it in, and her eyes looked at him like-

He shook his head. After she had left the day before, it had only taken 10 minutes of sanding until the silence became oppressive, silence he normally welcomed. But somehow, in 2 days, this stranger from San Diego had blown into his life and filled it with sound, and when it wasn't there -when she wasn't there- his thoughts banged around his brain like toddlers with pots and spoons. Despite all the work he had to do, he had thrown down the sander and gone into the house and done the thing he said he didn't want to do- talk. Talked with Ernie Chavez about construction costs, the bank about loans, his military rep about his retirement funds, and finally, with Juana, about what they were going to do if none of that worked. He still wasn't certain that it would. But he could admit he felt better about making the effort.

And there _she_ was, making an effort despite him pushing her away the day before, sauntering up to him in the sexiest goddamn way. 

She ran her eyes up him, then cheekily up the board, stopping at the small gouge at the tip.

"I woulda fixed it," he said, surprised at his defensiveness, "but someone told me to leave it."

Her thumb rubbed into the flaw that he had sanded and coated smooth. "I like it," she told him again. "I can say it's a shark bite." He arched an eyebrow. "A really tiny shark? Like a baby shark?" She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart and squinted her eyes.

Her playfulness broke through his attempt at seriousness and he smirked. "Come on in, Sloane. I'll make ya coffee." He jammed the board into the sand and began walking towards the house.

"Should we just leave it there?" she asked, even as she followed.

"Who's gonna steal it?"

He didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes. He grinned as he jogged up the sandy hill.

…..

"Didn't think you could move that fast with that wonky knee." He made a move to take away the sugar bowl that she stopped with a light slap. "You'll have 2 wonky knees, mister."

"So Miguel _did_ tattle."

Her spoon rhythmically circled the cup. "He was just correcting me when I thought the trophies in the shop were his."

"His? Kid can barely float let alone surf."

"Oh, leave him alone. He adores you." 

He saw the spoon slow down. "Spit it out."

"I was just wondering, does he know? About the notice and the threat? I mean, I understand if you don't want to talk about it. You made _that_ abundantly clear yesterday. And really, it's none of my business. You don't know me and-"

"Breathe, Sloane, Jesus."

His soft teasing brought out her smile. "I'm just saying, I know I have a tendency to go into Shrink Mode, and some people might find that off-putting."

"You don't say."

Her eyes narrowed at the smirk he was fighting. "Okay, Gunny, you've made your point. So, are you showing up for the festivities tomorrow night?"

His eyes stayed on the spoon's lazy circuit. "Juana told him." The spoon stopped at the unexpected admission, but began again, as if to encourage him to continue. "Figured he deserved to know since the plan is for him to have this when I'm gone."

"'Gone'? Pretty sure you're going to live forever, right?"

He grinned and met her eyes. "He's got 6 more months before he graduates, and I know Mario's already houndin' the kid to go work for him."

"For his computer designs."

"Yep. I'm hopin' he'll want to stick around here, drag this shop into the new millennium. It's been too old, too long."

She placed the spoon beside the mug and took a sip. "You don't believe that, not all of it, anyway. That's why you're teaching him how to build. Nothing wrong with blending the two together."

He grunted but was secretly pleased. "Might be for nothin' in 30 days." He shrugged and downed his coffee. "I need a favour."

Despite the sudden shift in conversation, she immediately answered, "Anything. Name it."

Serious brown eyes looked back at him and he knew she meant it, without hesitation, without a doubt.

"Stay here." To her obvious surprise, he stood up and disappeared down a hallway, but wasn't gone for more than a minute before he returned with a small black bag that he set on the table. 

Though it had no markings, it was universal enough that she must have recognized it, because she said rather than asked, "Clippers."

"Yep. I've been told more'n once that I'm the face of the shop. Guess I better look the part."

"High and Tight?" she asked excitedly, and he couldn't hide his soft chuckle. 

"Yeah. High and Tight. I'd do it myself, but it's been a while and my eyes aren't what they used to be."

"You got a sheet?"

"You're doin' it right now?"

"It's why you brought out the bag, isn't it? Besides, you're going to be busy today, finishing up whatever it is you have to do before tomorrow." When he didn't move, she waved her hands at him. "Sheet. Go."

"Yes, Ma'am."

…..

She wanted the '2' but he talked her down to the '3', and with the guard snapped on and the sheet draped around his shoulders, she started the clippers at his neck and brought them ¾ of the way up his head. It left a short trail among the rest of his salt and pepper hair, and she grinned at the outcome. 

"This is going to be so great!"

"Don't get crazy back there." He couldn't see her but he could hear the smile, and he relaxed into the moment. She stood behind him, her free hand running through his hair, touching his shoulder for steadiness or brushing the errant strands from his neck. She was tactile to an excruciating degree, her fingers always finding a reason to touch him, and it became the only thing he could focus on, despite the clippers buzzing around his ears. He may have given a 'tell' to his reaction, because he nearly jumped out of his skin when her finger traced his ear and she leaned forward to whisper her excuse.

"Just need to make sure I got it all," she said, then pushed the tip of his red hot ear down to curl the clippers around it. She came around to the front, bent slightly and eyeballed the evenness of his sideburns. She gave a thumbs up before putting down the clippers and picking up the scissors and comb. "You look like you put a bowl on your head. I'm just going to fix that." 

He grinned at her wrinkled nose. "That'd be swell."

"Don't get snarky with the woman holding a pair of scissors to your head, Gunny."

"No, Ma'am." It was the second time he had given her the label, but the first time he had seen her eyes react to it, and he noted the way they sparked before turning liquid gold. He slyly tried something else. "Lieutenant." He watched the way she bit the inside of her lip and furrowed her brow in a vain attempt to ignore the address. "LT." The twitch in her mouth gave her away and she held up the scissors right in front of his eyes like a silent warning that they both knew meant nothing. 

"Stop. I need to focus."

He shared her smirk, and he wasn't sure he'd smiled as much as he had in the 3 days since she waltzed into his shop. And her sway wasn't limited to giving life to his smile but a whole lot of other things, too. Like his hand that somehow found life of its own, moving up to her knee, and his eyes that ignored his brain and moved down to her throat. The hollow called out to his mouth, her collarbone tempting his teeth.

 _And what_ was _that goddamn scent?_

"Eucalyptus," she said without taking her eyes off the task. Just when he considered swallowing his treacherous tongue might be the most sensible course of action, she said, "Your nose was wiggling like a little puppy smelling a steak."

"Prefer a steak," he grumbled, trying to cover his near-calamitous crash.

"Mmmm." When his fingertips touched her bare knee, she clenched her jaw and arched an eyebrow. "If you don't stop that, you're going to have crooked bangs, Cowboy." His eyes reacted the same way hers had done, substituting warm amber with stormy blue, and she clearly caught it because she picked up his slyness and said, "Gunny". His finger tapped on her skin. "Jethro."

The red that had touched his ears had nothing on the shade that painted his cheeks. She continued on as if she hadn't just struck flint against steel. He couldn't figure out how the blood rushed to his face when it felt like it had all settled south of his belt. 

In an attempt to distract his own traitorous mind, he watched her focus on the comb and scissors and said, "You've done this before."

"Yep," she replied, snipping the ends that peeked out through the comb's teeth. "I used to-" 

Everything stopped except his touch at her knee which became an understanding squeeze. "You used to do it for your unit."

"Yeah. A long time ago." She started cutting again, but based on the amount he could hear the scissors trimming, it was her own distraction.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Without looking away from the needless task, she replied, "Someone told me talking doesn't solve anything."

She had every right to throw that back in his face, and he took it without complaint. Which was why his, "Jack," was soft and not indignant.

This time, she stopped. "Another time." Her finger tips around his ear softened her reply so that it sounded less dismissive and more of a promise.

"Okay."

She brushed her hand through his hair one more time, then carefully removed the sheet. "Better go have a look. If I hear a noise from the bathroom, I'll know to get out of Dodge."

He narrowed his eyes and made his way down the hall.

…..

She found a broom and had swept up all the hair, and he still hadn't come out of the bathroom. She poured another cup of coffee to kill time and was just about to worry when he appeared in her peripheral vision. Whatever quip she had on the tip of her tongue faded when she turned to look at him. 

He was a handsome man; there were no two ways about it. Even with the overgrown cut and untrimmed scruff, there was no denying those eyes and that smirk. So she was sure she could be forgiven for losing her voice when she saw him standing at the end of the hall, all tall and broad with his High and Tight and trimmed beard.

"Wow," was all she could manage.

The smirk was there, a testament to his cockiness, but there was something more, something almost boyish when his hand came up to scratch along his jaw. "We gonna test that board out or are we gonna sit here all day?"

"Either one of those sounds wonderful," her mouth confessed before her brain had a chance to engage. "I mean, the board?" He chuckled and tilted his head towards the door, but when she got to him, she realized, "I don't have anything to swim in." She slapped his chest in response to his full once-over from her feet to her head. "I am not surfing nude." He pretended to be crestfallen and she couldn't help but add, "In the daylight."

The inference that she might be inclined to do it another time saw his tongue come out to run along his bottom lip. "I got a coupla 'guards in the shop. Should be able to find you one that fits." 

Satisfied with the suggestion, she nudged past him and said, "On my six, Gunny."

His eyes dropped as she led him out of the house. "That's a given."

…..

While he took advantage of the view on the way to the shop, he found he enjoyed the entire package as she took the board through its paces. The one-piece rashguard didn't fit as snug as it should, but she made it work, and the spandex blend clinging just enough to bring out her athletic curves. As much as he liked the tanks and the shorts, there was something about her in the surf suit that made him feel closer to her than anything else she wore. Maybe it was because out on the water, she seemed the truest to herself. Even from his perch on the sandy ledge, he could see her smile, and he secretly hoped he had a part in putting it there. 

"Don't baby it, Sloane!" he shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth.

He was rewarded with a middle finger.

…..


	6. Chapter 6

…..

The first thing Miguel did when he stepped inside the shop was to look around. 

"You lose somethin', Mig?" Gibbs didn't look up from the board under his sander.

"No. I mean," he shrugged. "Just thought I might see Jack, that's all."

"She's sleepin'. In the house."

Miguel blinked once. "Sorry, she's what, where?" Before Gibbs had a chance to cast a glare, the young man slapped his arm across the board. "You are The Man, man."

The glare hit its mark, 2 seconds too late. "Finished the board last night. She came this mornin' to test run it."

"And you had to drag her out of the water." When the glare turned to an inquisitive head tilt, Miguel said, "Mario said she's a natural."

The switch went back to a glare. "When did you talk to Mario?" Miguel recognized his mistake too late, but before he could try and backtrack, Gibbs said, "You sold him some of your designs." They both knew it wasn't a question. 

Going with the offense is the best defense option, Miguel snarked, "So? Not sure if you remember, but we need the money and I don't see you making 30 more boards by tomorrow. Besides, he pays good, which is more than I can say about you."

The air went out of the room and Gibbs' sander faltered ever so slightly before picking up the grain again. Miguel's intent had only been to deflect, but he had swung the verbal stick too hard and it showed across Gibbs' face.

"'Well'," Jack said from the doorway. "He pays well." Miguel swung around to face her, but Gibbs continued his task without pause. Her eyes met the young man's and he quickly looked away. She hummed knowingly under her breath while she stepped into the shop, leaving room for Miguel to leave, and he eagerly took up the silent offer and slipped out. She touched his arm as he passed, offering her understanding. Left alone with Gibbs, she picked up some sandpaper, ran her fingers along the board's edge and brushed the paper in one direction until her thumb was satisfied at the outcome. They worked in tandem, in silence, for a good 15 minutes, and she absorbed the waves that came off him in the same way she surfed. He was angry, he was disappointed, but above all, he was clearly hurt, though he pushed it down like a lump in his throat. 

"I knew this kid," she began, squinting close to the board. "Lost his father when he was really young, grew up with his mother. By all accounts, a great woman, but he was having some trouble. You know how young boys are; they want the comfort of having a mom, but they often need that role model, someone to look up to."

"Jack," he warned.

Pretending to not have heard him, she continued, "Anyway, he found this guy. Great guy, in fact. Family friend. And if the kid grew up without a father, he never had to worry about not having a dad around. For years, this guy was the one who would fix everything; the kid thought he was invincible. But then something incredibly rare happened- the guy, this great guy, needed help. And this kid got scared, because he wanted to help but didn't know how."

Gibbs stood up straight, tossed down his sander and wiped his hands on a nearby rag. He leaned against the workbench, eyes on the ground. She wiggled her fingers for a clean cloth, which he stretched out towards her. Taking it, she reverently wiped down the board from the tip to the tail, making the hot coat shine. 

He watched the care she took with it and felt it in his chest. "So what happened?"

She shrugged. "If I remember correctly, it was something really crazy like, they talked it out or something." The soft laugh escaped his lips, just as she intended.

"Maybe I should be payin' you. This _is_ your job, isn't? Been gettin' it for free."

She remembered what Miguel had said, and so did Gibbs. "You know he didn't mean it that way. You've paid him in so many other ways." She could see the eyeroll before it developed, and she grabbed his wrist. "Hey. He knows that, too. He's just-"

"Scared. Yeah, I got that."

"For the first time in his life, you can't fix something. And if Jethro Gibbs can't fix it, that's got to be frightening as hell."

The frustration and hurt in his eyes dissipated under her words, her look, her touch. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm starving."

He tilted his head in the direction of the house. "C'mon."

The touch on his wrist, first meant to get his attention, turned gentle. "You know you've paid me, too, in so many other ways." She didn't let go until he looked into her eyes and saw the gratitude and honesty.

He pressed his lips together and nodded. "You still owe me for the board."

Her eyes went wide and she slapped his ass with a resounding smack. "This better be the best goddamn meal I've ever had."

…..

"This is the second best meal I've ever had." The words were squeezed around the burger. Seeing his eyebrow go up, she shrugged, "Girl's gotta have some secrets. Speaking of, why in the world do you have a fireplace in Mexico?"

Now it was his turn to shrug. "How else am I gonna cook the second best meal you've ever had?"

Her eyes flicked over to the kitchen, and when she realized she fell for the bait, she scowled. "Very funny." She sat back and rested her hand over her stomach. "I'm so full. Thank you." As the time passed leisurely between them, she stretched her arms and said, "I guess I should go. Haven't been the greatest travelling companion for Izzy."

He gestured to her cell phone with his chin. "She call?"

"No, but I've spent more time with you than her." There was nothing in her voice that indicated she was sorry about it. "So I'll see you in the morning?" He must not have been expecting the question, because his mouth opened but he didn't speak. "The tournament starts at 11 but I want to eat early enough to not cramp up."

"That's a myth."

"What?"

"Eating before swimming causin' cramps. It's a myth."

"Well, thanks, Dr. Science." She winked. "Besides, you'll have to bring my board. I'm not lugging it through the jungle back into town."

He rolled his eyes but agreed. "0700."

"Ten."

"Eight. And I'll show you all the reef tides."

"Hmmm." She pretended to ponder the offer, but there was no doubt she was going to agree. "Eight. We'll grab a bite to eat then hit the beach." 

"Okay."

"Okay." There wasn't much left to discuss, and she reluctantly said, "Guess I should leave you to it. I'm sure you've got a hundred things to do before tomorrow."

"Nah. I counted 98."

His eyes glittered in amusement and she smiled. "Right. Anyway." She stood and stretched again, her tank top lifting enough to give him a glimpse of skin, and she caught his eyes turn from bright blue to cloudy grey. 

Catching himself, he said, "You got a proper rashguard?"

"Yes. But I might treat myself to a new one from Mario's." There was just enough extra intent in her voice to make him raise an eyebrow.

"Jack."

"What? I need a rashguard. Mario sells them." 

Neither believed her casual explanation, but it was enough to let the subject go. He stood and used his body to guide her to the door. They both stepped out into cool sea air that she let blow through her hair. Remembering her task from earlier in the day, she turned to him and didn't fight the temptation to run her fingers through his newly shorn hair. 

"Bet that feels good, huh? The wind, I mean." Self-consciously, she began to lower her hand.

He agreed with a low hum, though when his fingers circled around her wrist to bring her touch back to his temple, it was evident _he_ didn't mean the wind. 

"0800."

She nodded, even if it took her an extra second to make the connection. "Right. The morning. I'll see you then." Having no further excuse to stay, she started down the steps to the beach, but before she got too far, she turned mid-step and shouted to the house, "Talk to Miguel!"

…..

She was halfway to The Surf Shop when her phone buzzed.

_Meet me at the hotel in an hour. Dinner. My treat._

She quickly text Izzy back before stepping into the store. As expected, it didn't take long for Mario to spot her.

"Ah, _La Luz de Sol_!" he greeted, taking her hand. "How are you? What brings you in to brighten my life?"

Though she was slightly miffed with him over Miguel, she couldn't deny his charm. "Two things. One, I need a new rashguard."

"Done. I have many to choose from over here." He guided her to a long wall lined with swimwear. "The shirt or the suit?"

"Just the shirt, I think."

"Yes. You should not cover more of your legs than necessary," he agreed, and seeing her expression, he quickly added, "for surfing. You want the least amount of hindrance around the hips."

"Mmmm-hmmm."

"And the second thing?" 

She chose to wait, suspecting the man was smart enough to figure it out himself. It didn't take long.

"Ah. Miguel."

"I'm disappointed in you, Mario. You told me 'we look after our own', but I wonder if you really meant you only look after yourself." He quirked an eyebrow at her bravado. "Listen," she said, "I know I'm nobody around here. Just another Benny who spends money then leaves without knowing what it's like the other 51 weeks she's not here. And I get that there's blood in the water now, but couldn't you have waited until the deadline passes?"

He rested his hand on her arm, a gesture filled with understanding. "I _am_ waiting until the deadline passes. To give back the designs."

Jack's brows met. "I don't understand."

"I bought them because I knew Juana wouldn't take my money. I have never met anyone more stubborn, except maybe that sheepdog. So I 'bought' the designs from Miguel. But I have no intentions of using them." He scoffed at the idea. "Maybe one day, he would be interested in a partnership, but now is not that day."

Her expression dropped and she felt like a heel. "I am so sorry."

His smile refused the apology. "Bah. You can make it up to me by buying this beautiful white 'guard with the flowers."

She noticed it was also the most expensive one on the wall, but she figured it was a small price to pay for being an idiot who jumped to conclusions. "I'll take it."

…..

She spotted him on the way back to the hotel. "Miguel!" 

He turned to his name and lifted his chin at her wave. They met in the middle, and she steered him towards a small hut that sold ice drinks. "What can I buy you?" Seeing the objection forming on his lips, she said, "Don't make me choose for you, or you'll get some kind of mango strawberry thing." 

A smile peeked out from his lips. "Lime."

"Two lime, please," she asked the server as she handed over a few bills. While they waited, she turned to Miguel and asked, "So how are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

"Just okay?" She nodded as she took the drinks, and they walked over to a small table to sit. 

"I messed up today."

"Oh? In what way?"

A dismissive snort escaped. "In every way. You were there."

She nodded. "Yes. And what I saw was a young man who is trying his best to fix a bad situation, and is a little scared that he won't be able to do it."

"I shouldn'tve said what I said. He's given me so much more than money."

"He knows, Miguel. And he knows you know. How could you not know? You were raised by a strong, loyal woman and you had a lot of help from a really great guy."

He looked into his drink. "I didn't know my dad. Sometimes I forget that."

"Because you've had a man in your life who's been that role for you."

Nodding, he said, "Everything I ever needed from a dad, Gibbs gave to me. And then I go and say that." He slapped his forehead. "Stupid."

"Not stupid," she corrected, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "Understandable. He'll forgive you. Probably already has. And can I tell you something?" Miguel looked up. "He won't like me telling you this, but he's just as scared as you are, even if he doesn't show it. He thinks it's his responsibility to take care of you and your mom, and when he can't do that, he gets angry at himself. But that's just fear manifested in a different way."

Listening to her words, an idea occurred to him. "Are you a doctor? Like, the kind people talk to?"

She grinned at his discovery. "A psychologist. Yes. It's what I do in San Diego."

"Makes sense now, why you're so easy to talk to."

She shrugged. "I try. But us talking doesn't mean you don't have to talk to him. The both of you need to talk to each other."

He pondered his options in the ice melting in the bottom of his cup. "He'll need help loading the truck tonight."

"Sounds like a good time for two people who care about each other to have a little chat." Her straw made a loud sound as she tried to suck back the very last of the drink. "This was really good," she praised. "Thank you."

He stood, collected their cups and tossed them into a nearby garbage. "Thank you, Jack."

…..

"You're late."

"Um, I’m 5 minutes early, thank you very much." Jack plopped onto Izzy's couch. 

"Don't get comfy. I'm starving," Izzy said as she disappeared into the bathroom. "What'd you eat today?"

"Gibbs made me a burger." The words were out of her mouth before her brain could tell her it was a bad idea.

Sure enough, Izzy's head peeked around the corner. "Oh?"

The day had taken most of her energy and her fight. From behind the arm that was covering her eyes, she said, "'Oh' what?"

"Please, please tell me you're sleeping with him."

The arm didn't move. "I'm not sleeping with him."

"You're kidding. Why not?"

It lifted just enough for Jack to look at her. "What do you mean 'why not'?"

"Are you just going to repeat all my questions?" She came into the living room and sat in an opposite chair. "Why aren't you sleeping with him? He's obviously into you or he wouldn't let you hang around him all day. You're very obviously into him or you wouldn't bother hanging around him all day." Jack's lips twitched at the repetition. "So, you know, when a man and a woman are into each other…" When Jack's arm returned to cover her eyes, Izzy mouthed, "Wow." Out loud, she said, "You're in love with him."

"Shut up."

But it was too late. "Went to school to learn all those big words and you can't manage the 3 simplest ones in the language."

The statement, taken as an accusation, made Jack sit up straight. "Is it really that simple, Izzy? Is it really? We leave Mexico in 3 days. Then what?"

Izzy was having none of the defeatist attitude. "Please. You don't live on another continent. Hell, you're not even on the other side of this one. It's a 2-hour flight from San Diego, tops. We only took forever driving down here because we're idiots and _someone_ wanted to do a road trip."

A deep sigh escaped Jack's lungs. "I don't know, Izzy. Maybe I'm reading everything wrong."

"How does that happen? You're a psychologist. Reading things is kinda your job."

"Maybe I'm too close."

"A doctor who tries to diagnose himself has a fool for a client?"

"Pretty sure that's 'lawyer'." She ran her hands through her hair. "Anyway."

"So what are you going to do?"

Her eyes looked out the balcony door to the sea. "I don't know. What I do know is, he doesn't need the distraction. Not right now."

Standing, Izzy started for the bathroom again, but suggested, "Considering what he's going through, maybe it's exactly what he needs right now. Think about it."

She disappeared around the corner, leaving Jack with her thoughts.

…..

The knock was short but deliberate, and for a second, she thought maybe it was her brain punishing her for the previous night's events. After dinner, Izzy had pulled her out to the beach where the festivities were already getting underway, and it wasn't until 6 hours and an untold number of drinks later that Jack dragged herself back to the hotel. The knock echoed in the quiet suite again.

"Coming!" she half-grumbled, half-yelled, flipping back the light sheet and shuffling towards the sound. With heavy lids she squinted at the lock, twisted it back and yanked open the door.

In the silence that grew, she took the opportunity to doze while standing. Gibbs, on the other hand, used that same opportunity to get a good look at the woman who stood before him in bikini underwear and the thinnest white tank top he'd ever seen. Her hair was tousled in a way that took his brain to places where neither articles of clothing would be needed. He was glad her eyes were currently closed so he didn't have to explain his gaping mouth. 

"Lookin' for Jack Sloane." The words made it past his dry throat, much to his appreciation.

She opened one eye and saw him looking around. "Ha ha. Very funny. Come on in. It'll only take me a minute to get ready."

"A minute, huh?"

"I'd smack you but I need to conserve my energy for something more important. Like getting dressed."

"Don't go to any trouble on my account."

Her step faltered on the way to the bedroom just enough for him to chuckle.

…..

"So you're sure I'm not going to cramp and drown?" 

He was wiping the board when she said it, and he shook his head. Standing tall, he tilted the board in her direction. "I got Speedos under the shorts. I'll jump in if it looks like trouble."

She stepped forward and took the board, then leaned closer. "My hero." 

Despite what uncertainties she had admitted to Izzy, there was something about standing in front of him, looking into deep blue eyes and an easy grin that somehow made things simpler. The way his ears tinted pink whenever she complimented him or threw in a sly comment didn't hurt, either. It made him less of a complication and more of a man who had so very easily taken hold of her heart.

"You want some tips or are ya gonna sass me all day?" He pressed a finger against her lips before she could reply. Using both hands, he turned her around and stood against her back. With his lips against her ear, he said, "I'm about to give you all the advice you'll need. Ready?"

Somehow she managed to reply, "Yep."

"Paddle far and be patient."

When nothing else followed, she half-turned against him. "That's it? You're not going to give me insider knowledge on the currents or the tides? No reef warnings?"

He laughed at her mock-indignation. "No reefs in Mexico. As for the rest, you have eyes. Good eyes." 

It wasn't just a compliment on her sight but also on her vision and she recognized it for what it was. Still, she had doubts. "I haven't been surfing in years, Gibbs."

"You went surfin' yesterday morning."

"You know what I mean." When he tilted his head, she realized what she had just said. "No, I guess you wouldn't know, would you? I forget-" _That we just met_ was what she wanted to say, but knew it would only lead to her saying more she wasn't ready to admit. "Let's just say it's been a long decade."

At the angle she was standing, he was able to place his palm between her shoulder blades, and despite the neoprene fabric, she could swear she could feel his skin against hers. He pressed his lips against her temple and whispered, "It's been a long decade for me, too."

She pulled back and looked into soft blue and marvelled at how he could find the right moment to show just enough of himself to make her want more. She had a hundred questions that she knew she might never get the answers to, and she was surprised to discover that it was okay. He also had the ability to turn everything around in an instant, because just like that, he smirked and raised his eyebrows and turned his vulnerability into a jibe. 

She slapped his chest at the sly admission, but wasn't above playing with fire. "I'll be gentle," she promised, and left him standing on the beach, laughing.

…..

He wasn't one to enjoy people playing games, and he definitely didn't like it when he was the one doing it. Every time she wasn't around, he made a promise to not let himself get involved with Jack, to start building the distance now before she did it when she left for good. Yet the second she was a thought away, his mouth betrayed his brain, and the trench was filled again. It didn't help- or hurt- that she wasn't hard to look at as she waded into the crystal clear water. The new rashguard fit better than the one he had let her borrow and it came with the added benefit of not being a one-piece. The white boy shorts matched the top in both tone and snugness, and he knew he wasn't the only one noticing.

But that wasn't the reason his eyes were compelled to follow. If looks were the only thing, he could have his pick from more than a handful of women over the last barren decade. He knew he still attracted his own attention, and if he wasn't aware, Juana never failed to tell him of this friend or that she had in mind for him. No, Jack's beauty was a piece that drew him to her, but it was secondary to her heart. She was honest and truthful, and he'd discovered from personal experience that when she cared, she cared with everything. He knew she had somehow talked to Miguel, because the kid came into the shop and apologized, and for the first time in a long time, he had apologized, too. Such was the magic of Jacqueline Sloane. He grinned at the thought. 

The advantage of the pro tournament being held at the next beach over meant she didn't have to deal with the daredevils who cut and surfed to the edge of sanity. The disadvantage of being surrounded by amateurs was the fact that half of them didn't know what they were doing, and ended up causing board traffic for the same wave. She didn't have that problem, though, because she was taking his advice and paddling past the first tide. She belonged out there, and he was almost jealous. As if she heard his thought, she turned on the board and gave him a brilliant smile and a thumb's up.

…..

She could feel him watching her, and instead of making her feel self-conscious, it made her feel daring, added to the freedom she felt with the wind in her hair and the water around her. Somewhere between her talk with Izzy and that very moment, she had decided to let the next 2 days be what they were going to be. She was going to approach it like she did surfing- she'd ride out the waves and adjust to the tides and if she fell off the board, that was just a risk she'd have to take. With that metaphor and pep talk concluded, she twisted around to look at him, smile, and give a thumb's up.

…..


	7. Chapter 7

…..

His sharp whistle brought her in, and she was surprised when he led her to a pair of beach chairs, complete with umbrellas and drinks. 

"Mario," he said before she had a chance to ask. "Said he mistook me for someone else with the haircut, but I think he's tryin' to apologize for the thing with Mig."

"And you accepted it?" she asked, towel-drying her hair.

"Yeah. But I didn't tell him that. Gonna let it play out a bit more."

She snapped him with the towel. "You're bad."

"When the situation warrants it."

His smirk made it a double entendre that got him another snap.

"Is that why you called me in? To flirt?"

"Nah, I can do that any time." He avoided a third assault. "I didn't want your arms gettin' too tired. Save that energy for the tournament." He lowered himself into the chair and brought his sunglasses down to shade his eyes. He waited until she followed suit before saying, "There's no one out there you can't beat."

"You haven't seen all the competition."

"Don't have to." He crossed his ankles and got comfortable. 

The sun and his compliment warmed her, and she mirrored his pose, enjoying the view and the company. Despite her earlier foggy head, the breakfast, the water and the man had done wonders for her disposition, making her lighter and freer. She looked to her right, taking him in, basking in the sun and his presence. With his blue eyes covered, she was able to look without getting caught in their undertow. He was a good-looking man, even with his best physical feature hidden; his profile was angular and sharp, and the years of service and surfing had kept him in above average condition. The only thing that marred the image was the long thin scar on the outside of his left knee. She wondered if that was during or after his time in the Marines.

"See somethin' ya like, Sloane?"

The question caught her red-handed, but she didn't care. "Just thinking maybe you should put yourself in the auction instead of your board. You'd have that road paid off in no time."

He lowered his sunglasses to let her see his cocky expression, but whatever he was going to say to back it up was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Oh, my God."

Gibbs pushed the sunglasses back up and tilted his head up to the sun that was creeping past the umbrella. Jack tilted her head up to the new arrival.

"Izzy."

"Wow, you clean up _good_."

"'Well'," Gibbs deadpanned, and Jack remembered a similar exchange with Miguel.

"That, too," Izzy said, unaffected by his dry humour. "Who knew there was all that handsome under all that hair?"

Jack felt the need to blush for him, but he just took a sip of his drink like it was nothing. 

"You're lookin' hot, Mr. Gibbs. The ladies are gonna go nuts."

Gibbs couldn't help but chuckle. "Thanks, Franco. Don't tell your mother."

Izzy's escort grinned. "She's got her eye on Rick Gutierrez these days."

"I'm heartbroken." 

"You're not surfin' today, are you?"

He shook his head at Franco's question. "No, but she is." He bent his head to his left. "Franco, this is Ms. Sloane. Jack, Franco."

Jack lifted her hand to shake his. "Nice to meet you, Franco. Just call me 'Jack'. And make sure Izzy pays for everything."

She had the courage to look indignant. "As if I would expect my new friend to pay. I've got it covered."

"With _your_ credit card, right?"

Izzy brushed aside the accusation. "When do you surf?"

Jack narrowed her eyes but replied, "Under 25s are first, then the women, then the men. Then there's some kind of bonus round?"

"Winners from the 3 groups compete," Franco said. "It's been almost 10 years since a lady won."

Though he replied to the young man, he looked over at Jack. "Lot can change in 10 years."

Interested in the exchange, Izzy turned to Franco. "Can you see about getting us some chairs? I'd like to watch the first woman in 10 years win this thing." 

Franco nodded. "Can I get anything for you, Mr. Gibbs? Jack?" 

Gibbs grabbed some bills from his pocket. "Sunscreen, a bottle of whiskey and whatever you're gettin'."

The second item made him laugh. "Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll get you one of those raspberry ice drinks my mother always bought you."

"Oh! Can you get me a lime?" Jack asked, clapping her hands.

"Of course. Isabelle?" 

She sat beside Jack. "I guess I could have one to tide me over until Tequila Hour." With Franco gone, she turned her attention to Gibbs. "So, Blue Eyes, Jack tells me you're good with your hands."

"Oh, God," Jack mumbled.

"What? I'm talking about the boards."

A sharp whistle blew, announcing the start of the Under-25 competition, saving Gibbs' retort and Jack's blushes.

…..

Forty-five minutes later, after everyone came in from the tide and the scores were tallied, the whistle blew for the women's competition. A nervousness suddenly went through Jack, though Gibbs appeared to be the only one who saw her flex and clench her fingers. Wordlessly, he stood and guided Jack and her board to the line where the wet sand met the dry. 

"You got this, Jackie J!" Izzy shouted, and Franco joined along. 

"You hear that," he whispered into her ear as she needlessly adjusted her rashguard zipper. "'You got this, Jackie J'." He could tell from the look on her face what she thought of the moniker, and the glare only told him what he already knew. His grin was easy. 

"I don't know why I'm so nervous," she admitted. "It's just surfing, right?"

"Yep. And no matter why you're doin' this- for me, for you, for whatever reasons you got- remember that. It's just surfin'. Be calm. Be patient. Be you."

She inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply. With a nod, she said, "You know, for a guy who doesn't say much, you say just the right thing at just the right time."

"Not just a pretty face, Sloane."

His dryness made her laugh, just as he intended.

"Yeah, but it i _s_ very pretty." She boldly reached up and stroked his trimmed beard. 

"Franco's mom used to think so." 

That turned her caress into a light slap and she felt his smile under her palm.

"Got the leash on?"

She glanced down though she knew the answer. "Yep."

"Board's good. Pretty little new rashguard. What the hell are ya waiting' for, Sloane?"

If her touch was bold, her words were downright brazen. "A good luck kiss, maybe?"

He seemed to contemplate the request, then shifted closer, his mouth inching nearer. It took an Ice Age to get his lips to brush across hers on their way to her ear. She didn't know if she was disappointed at the re-route or insanely turned on by his warm breath against her cheek. Every nerve ending felt on fire, and the heat scorched any nervousness she had left.

"Watch out for the sharks." He left an open mouth kiss against her ear, gently nipping at the lobe before walking away.

She was so gobsmacked by his actions that he was 20 feet away before she found her voice. "Wait! Watch out for the what??"

…..

Of course, there were no sharks, though it took her 10 full minutes to get the suggestion out of her head.

"Ass."

She had already taken one wave, paddling out farther than the rest of her competitors and hitting the crest just right, getting a feel for the larger waves. She didn't know how the points system worked, but she figured the bigger the surf, the bigger the points, and with that in mind, she turned the board around and went right back to the horizon. The crystal blue water was dark where the power built underneath the surface, and she saw the line where the 2 colours met. The ocean could be a dangerous place to those who didn't know it, didn't respect it, but Gibbs wasn't wrong when he told her she had good eyes. She also had good instincts, and at the first sign of the white break on the water, she increased her paddle and went right into the wall as it began to develop, giving her enough time to swivel the board around and literally go with the flow. As the water pushed under her board, she pushed up to her feet, and as one, the wind and the wave lifted her into the barrel and she let out a whoop at the sensation. The wave surged forward and she adjusted the angle of her board to ride it out as long as she could before momentum slowed and she tipped sideways into the water. 

…..

"She's good," Izzy praised from the beach. It was said in a tone that implied she already knew the truth, but that what she saw only proved it.

"Yep." Gibbs had a pair of binoculars up to his eyes, looking only at one woman.

"So, are you sleeping with her?"

Franco sputtered his drink all over his chest. "Isabelle!" Standing, he said, "Let me clean this off," before jogging to the shallow water.

Left alone, she repeated the question, shortening it to, "So?"

He figured she had already asked Jack, and if they shared any kind of friendship, she would've gotten an answer from her, either directly or through omission. He was always inclined to go with the former.

"Nope."

Just as he thought, she exclaimed, "That's what she said! I don't understand it!"

Without lowering the binoculars, he said, "Nothin' to understand. Izzy." She was quiet after his jibe, so quiet that he finally turned his attention to her. His look encouraged her to talk.

"Listen. She's gone through a lot over the last 10 years. She came back from Afghanistan and-" She paused, rethinking how much of Jack's history she had the right to tell him. She settled for, "And she's surfing again," hoping he'd catch on.

"I know," he said, his voice soft, devoid of sarcasm.

"Do you? Because I haven't seen that Jack in years." She glanced out into the ocean, her hand blocking the sun's glare. "I never thought I would again." Wistfully, she said, "I just want her to be happy again." They both looked out at the woman in the distance who had her arms raised, revelling in the cool water. Izzy's eyes never left her friend when she added, "And I can't think of anything that would make her happier than getting laid by an ex-Marine. Even if she is ex-Army."

The casual way she had gone from serious to joking drew out a genuine laugh from Gibbs. "No such thing as an 'ex-Marine'," was all he said before bringing the binoculars back up to his face.

"Your lady is amazing!" Franco said, jogging back from the water before plopping down on a towel beside Izzy.

Under his breath, Gibbs agreed, "That she is."

…..


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament takes a serious turn and someone's life is at risk.

…..

Crawling onto the board, she brushed back her hair and caught her breath.

The competition was 20 minutes, slightly less than the pros, and if she squinted, she could see the large scoreboard on shore. Her name was top of the board and she raised her arms, knowing there was no way anyone could catch her. A few women around her congratulated her even as they all waited for the last chance wave. She didn't go out far, instead choosing to stick with the group, and as the wave rolled in, they followed behind each other, careful to avoid bumping boards, each surfer popping up to their feet, one after the other, almost in a synchronized pattern. The tide lifted them all and they rode it halfway to the beach, gliding the rest of the way laying flat on their board until the water was shallow enough to touch bottom. She jogged up the sand to the applause of the audience, but it was only one face she was looking for.

His smile was warm and easy though it was obstructed by Izzy's rush to throw her arms around her. 

"You were amazing!" She pulled back and clasped their hands together. "Seriously. Isn't that right, Gibbs?"

Jack flashed an apology in his direction but he refused it with a shrug. "She was amazing."

"Mario's taking bets," Franco said. "I hope you don't mind I'm going to put some money on you, Jack."

"As long as you don't come looking for me when you lose it."

"Pffft, I don't even need to see the men's competition to know you got this in the bag."

Izzy looped her arm with Franco's but spoke to Jack. "We're going to grab a bite to eat; you want to come?"

She glanced at Gibbs and enjoyed the idea of being alone with him, if only to decompress from the surfing. "I think I'll pass. You might not need to see the competition, Franco, but I do."

Izzy showed her appreciation for the quick thinking excuse by humming. "Fine. We'll see you in half an hour." She bent forward and grabbed the sunscreen, tossing it into Gibbs' chest with a smirk. 

…..

"Alone at last," he quipped as they sat down in their chairs.

"Was she bad?" Jack asked. "I know she can be a little overwhelming at times."

He shook his head. "You sure you're not hungry?"

"I'm starving, but I'd rather stay here."

"Why didn't you say somethin'?" he asked. "Lemme get-"

Her hand came out to stop him. "I'd rather _you_ stayed."

He picked up on the request. "Right after the last competition, you're eating." When her hand began to pull away from his arm, he turned it over to pin her fingers under his wrist. "Have a nap. I'll tell ya who you're gonna beat when it's all over."

She laughed at his confidence but was surprised when her eyes drifted shut behind the darkness of her sunglasses.

…..

"You're sleeping?!"

Izzy's exclamation jolted her from her slumber. "I _was_ ," Jack replied, her voice groggy and low. 

"That's the confidence of a champion," Franco said, handing Gibbs a chit that didn't go unnoticed by Jack, even in her half-sleep state.

"Did you bet on me?"

His shrug was unapologetic. "Gotta raise some money somehow."

"I heard about that," Franco said. "It's bullshit."

"Word gets around."

"Word gets around when it's about people we care about," Franco corrected. 

Jack sensed Gibbs' discomfort at the affection. "So who's my competition?" she asked. "And before you say 'no one', I need to at least see what he looks like."

Gibbs' lips lifted at her sass and her diversion. "The tall blonde. Paul somebody from Australia."

Franco scanned the crowd for the face. "I think he was here last year, wasn't he?"

"Yep. Not good enough for the pros so he tries to rope in the amateurs," Gibbs said. "Looks like he's moved up a step from last year. Finally won somethin'."

The horn blew, requesting the 3 group winners to the judges' hut, and Jack turned to the trio. "Well, guess that's me." She wiped her hands together and shrugged at her nervousness. 

Gibbs grabbed her board out of the sand. "Walk." 

She ran to catch up to his long strides, enjoying the hot sand under her feet. "You're not going to tell me about the sharks again, are you?"

He grinned at his side. "Nope."

"A pep talk?"

"Nope."

"Then what-" 

He held the board in his left hand, effectively using it as a blocker between them and the crowd. With more confidence than he might have felt, he bent his head and stopped her question with a kiss. It was short but full of promise, chaste yet teasingly sensual.

"Oh," was all she could say when he ended it and began walking again, as if he hadn't just turned over the apple cart.

"Never thought I'd see it- Jethro Gibbs carrying someone else's board. Though I can see why." The unwelcomed comment came from the blonde Australian who towered over everyone in the small group at the hut. 

Gibbs narrowed his eyes but kept his ire to himself. "Just comin' over to see which one of you is finishing second."

"Ah, very good," Paul nodded. "Well, since I'm finishing first, guess it's you, Kai."

The 14-year old beamed. "I'm just happy to have made it this far!"

Jack held out her hand to the boy. "Nice to meet you, Kai. I saw your run today. You're really good."

His face went red and the Aussie smirked at Jack. "Then you must've been really impressed when you saw me."

She pressed her lips together and shook her head dismissively. "Not really. I was having a nap. Sorry." Her tone said she was anything but. 

The laughter from Kai and the chuckle from Gibbs brought a different kind of heat to Paul's face. "Yeah, right. Okay. Maybe you'll get lucky to see enough of it out there. If you can handle the pressure."

"Well, like Kai here, I'm just happy to have made it this far." She offered her hand up to Kai who returned the high-five.

Gibbs stepped closer to the taller man and lowered his voice to say, "No pressure, Paul. You finally won this year and now all you gotta do is beat a woman and a kid." He clapped his big hand on the Aussie's shoulder, but just before he turned his attention back to Jack, he added, "Mario's got the kid at 5 to 1. She's 1 to 3. I liked the money line with Kai, but I'm a sucker for playin' the odds."

"What are my odds?"

Gibbs looked at the hand on his arm that had stopped him from turning away. The grip quickly dropped under the blue stare. "I don't know," he replied flatly. "Didn't bother checking."

Mario stepped in, poorly trying to hide his grin. "We all know the rules; 20 minutes to catch as much wave as you can. Judges give points on style, how long you stay on the board and I don't even know what else. One horn starts the clock, two horns lets you know you have 60 seconds left, three horns says it's over. Any questions?"

The three competitors shook their head, but Gibbs asked, "Yeah. When can I pick up my money?"

Jack lowered her head at the subtle praise and Mario winked. "Trophies get handed out between the auction and the fireworks. Come see me then." He jerked his chin towards the water. "Better get to your starts."

Kai and Paul picked up their boards and individually plotted out the best spot, leaving Gibbs and Jack alone. She looked up at him and when she caught his eyes tracing her mouth, she felt her lips tingle at the memory. Bending down to attach the board leash, she pretended to struggle with it long enough that he bent to help, only to have her quickly press her lips against his. Caught out by her ambush, he was still kneeling when the horn blew and she was halfway in the water.

…..

Kai's goal was obviously just to surf, the kid being all smiles and joy, and Jack couldn't help but smile along. Paul's goal was to get in as many waves as possible, hoping to accumulate enough small points to win. But her goal was the same as it had been since Gibbs whispered it in her ear- be patient and paddle far. She knew her choice to avoid the first wave went unnoticed by her competition, and she suspected the second one went by without much attention, but by the third wave, she could almost feel Paul's stare hit between her shoulder blades. Her mouth twitched at the image of him wondering what the hell she was doing. It wasn't the only reason her lips pressed together. Blue startled eyes stared back in her memory and she laughed out loud at catching him off-guard. She felt freer than she had ever been. 

The horizon disappeared behind the water wall that sprung out of the ocean, and she was immediately all business. She went from sitting to prone and began paddling towards the wave, pushing the board higher and higher until the nose nearly tipped her backwards before she twisted it around to face the shore. When she got into a standing position, she looked down and realized she had underestimated the height of the wave, but a simple change in her feet brought her centre of gravity lower to compensate. Her heart was racing at the unexpected speed, but when she gripped the board, she felt a calm come over her. She was in control of a nearly uncontrollable thing, and it only gave her the power to push harder. Ducking as the crest curled over her, she ran the board parallel to the barrel, the roaring tunnel that surrounded her, racing to reach the end before it engulfed her. The exit got tighter and tighter and she got lower and lower to the board, and just when it seemed the water would win, she burst out of the blue and into the sunlight. It felt like it had gone on for over a minute, but she knew that reality brought it closer to 15 seconds. Like all surfers, the short moment in time only made her want to find it again, and when she dropped into the water, she got back on the board and turned into the horizon again.

For every 3 waves her competition hit, she hit 1, but the height and power of hers eclipsed theirs, and she knew her points were good even before she asked one of the many lifeguards who stayed close on a jet ski. The horn blew twice, signalling 1 minute remaining, and she knew she had it in the bag, which was why she was surprised to see Kai come up behind her. She was sitting and catching her breath when he paddled by her side.

"Hey, Kai."

"Hey, Jack."

"What are you doing out here?" She had seen him surf and suspected he could handle it, but she couldn't stop her protective instinct. 

"Oh, just thought maybe I'd catch a wave or something?" They both laughed at the obvious answer. "I know I can't win, but I thought I'd give the crowd a show." 

"Guess he thought the same thing." Her eyebrows lifted to a familiar blonde-haired figure 20 yards to their right.

Kai followed her gaze. "Yeah, he's so mad! He cut me off on the last wave but then fell off the board." He laughed, his bright personality unphased by the pressure. 

"Just make sure he doesn't cut you off out here, okay? The troughs are deep and the crest can push you down."

"Yes, miss." 

She shook her head with a grin. "You stay here; I'm going to paddle that way." Her head tilted to her left. "Let's try not to smash into each other, okay?"

She gauged how far she could get before the wave developed, and when she figured she was far enough from Kai, she turned to face it. She checked to make sure Kai had stayed put, and was relieved to see he had. But Paul's presence in Kai's vicinity made her squint.

_What's he playing at?_

…..

"You shouldn't be this close," Kai shouted when he saw Paul paddling towards him.

"Then maybe you should fuck off," he shouted back. He knew he had no chance to win and it burned through his stomach. If nothing else, he'd make sure he'd upstage the woman in the final wave. She might win, but it'd be his surfing they'd talk about all night.

The young surfer blinked at the bluntness, but acquiesced. Unfortunately, as he began to paddle away, the wave rolled in. Caught between riding it out or being flipped over by its strength, Kai took a chance and pushed his board's nose into the face of the wave. Paul knew the trajectory of Kai's board would prevent his own push into the wave, and the frustration coupled with knowing he'd been beaten by a woman put power behind his paddle until he caught up with the kid.

"You're too close!" Kai shouted as the wave loomed over them. He twisted the board around prematurely, hoping to avoid crashing into Paul, and was nearly clear when he felt a tug at his foot. Then nothing.

…..

"What the hell?" Gibbs whispered behind his binoculars.

…..

With one eye on the wave and the other on what was unfolding 30 yards away, Jack knew immediately she'd have to make a choice. And when she saw Kai jerk forward and his board disappear, the choice was easy. The wave was on her in an instant and rather than fight it, she barrel-rolled her board, holding her breath under, taking a breath on top, and when the crest passed her, she angled the board as best she could in Kai's direction. She saw Paul catch the wave and disappear behind her, but she still couldn't see the teen. The only trace of him was his board, and she didn't know if that was good or bad. The force of the wave kept the jet skis at a distance, and she could see another wave beginning to build. Knowing she could swim faster and deeper than she could paddle, she made another choice. Unclipping her leash from her board, she let it go and dove into the water's depths. 

Mercifully, Kai was still clipped to his board, though it was clear he was disoriented as he thrashed around looking for daylight. With one arm around his chest, she kicked them to the surface, lungs straining, heart racing. When they broke into the open, she gasped and scrabbled for his board, lifting him as best she could onto it. 

"You're okay, you're okay," she promised even as the blood poured out of his forehead. Gibbs had made the joke about watching out for sharks and she was praying that's all it was, considering the amount of blood now in the water. Kai's arms stretched across the board and his head rested on his biceps.

"I'm okay," he echoed weakly. 

"There's another wave coming, Kai. Can you hold on?"

"I think so."

"You think so or you know so?" Her voice was hard and stern, like a certain Marine.

He lifted his head. "I know so."

"Good. Because here it comes. Take a deep breath when I tell you, okay?" When he nodded, she measured the distance with her eyes then calmly ordered, "Now!"

…..

The crowd gathered at the shore, half as curious onlookers, the other half waiting to help. Gibbs dropped his binoculars and had kicked off his shoes when Mario put his arm across his chest.

"Jethro, there's nothing you can do. They're too far out. Trust the rescue team."

The words seemed like a taunt even though he knew the man meant well. He was asking him to stand and watch, a witness to his own futility. His brain knew Mario was right, but his heart brought him to the edge of the water.

…..

"Just a little longer, sweetheart," she promised. "The worst of it's over."

"Okay."

She almost laughed at his absolute trust in her. "The rescue team just needs to wait for the waves to subside." Almost on cue, she heard a set of jet skis behind her. Relief washed over her just as sure as the cool water did. Brushing aside his wet hair, she said, "Guess we gave the crowd a show, huh?"

…..

The crowd passed judgment on Paul as he came into shore, showering him with boos, accusations and threats. If he had a sliver of good sense, it was to avoid looking towards Gibbs, though the man had eyes only on the horizon. As the rescue team came in, Gibbs waded deeper and deeper into the water, meeting her ride before it hit the beach. Lifeguards rushed out to Kai who tried to assure them he was fine, despite the gash above his left eye. One ran out to Jack, but retreated when the driver shook his head. 

Gibbs helped her off the jet ski and lowered her gently into the water until her feet hit the bottom. Framing her face with his big hands, he wiped back her hair and searched her eyes with his. They looked back at him, slowly warming like an amber thaw. So warm, in fact, they became a golden flame.

"That asshole pulled Kai's leash!" She pointed an accusing finger in Paul's direction despite him being nowhere to be found.

"I know. We all know." He pressed his warm lips to her cool forehead.

"He could've killed him!"

He kissed her again. "I know."

She grew silent and he let her settle under his chin as her anger dissipated. The water lapped quietly against their legs even as the commotion of what had transpired continued around them. Just when he thought she had run out of steam, his chest caught a third onslaught, though it was the quietest of the three.

"I lost the board."

His arms held her close, letting her curl into his frame. "I'll build you another one."

Rather than console her, his words only brought the fire back to life. She pulled back and punched his chest.

"I don't want another one! I want _that_ one!" Her voice bordered on hysterical, and he cupped her face again. 

"The adrenaline's wearin' off, Sloane."

She nodded and gulped deep breaths and her eyes tried to find a focus. Looking over to Kai who was still being tended to on the beach, she asked, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"Might have a small concussion. Some stitches. A great story about how a beautiful mermaid rescued him."

His exaggeration brought out her smile, just as intended, but it slipped away just as quickly.

"It was special, Gibbs."

Her punch didn't have nearly the same strength the second time around, and it only served as a precursor to her sob against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her again and let her cry. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

…..


	9. Chapter 9

…..

He could feel the moment when she had run out of steam, and he used it to slowly guide her out of the water and onto the beach. Groups of people clapped and shouted her name, and she lifted a thankful hand. They had barely made it to dry sand when Izzy came rushing down to meet them. She threw her arms around Jack, crushing her in her embrace.

"Jesus Christ, Jack!" 

Her otherwise chatty friend was surprisingly quiet, a testament to her fear. Jack squeezed back.

"I'm okay. Lost the board." She said the first like it was a success and the second like a failure.

Izzy frowned. "Who cares about the board? You could've died!"

Only Gibbs seemed to recognize the tears that were just under the surface again when Izzy dismissed the board like it was nothing. He hated it when women cried- he could never anticipate what would make them stop. Did they want to be consoled or left alone? Did they want a listener or a talker? In his regimented mind, he found the unpredictability of it all frustrating. But he was quickly finding out Jack crying was a whole other kettle of fish, and he discovered even quicker that he was willing to do anything. He figured the first thing to do was get her away from the moment. 

"Let's get you back to the hotel. You can change and then we'll get that food I promised." 

His voice was soft and his eyes even softer. She nodded, willing to let herself be cared for, even if it meant something as simple as eating. 

"Yeah, let's do that."

Izzy didn't ask if they needed company; she was more than happy to see Jack let Gibbs take the lead. She put a hand on his forearm as they passed, met his eyes with hers, and offered a simple nod which he returned. The crowd parted as they made their way up to the boardwalk. Along the way, Mario caught their attention. His hand on Gibbs' forearm was more immediate than Izzy's had been. 

"We've handled that Australian," he informed him. Looking at Jack, he reminded her with a wink, "We take care of our own." 

She surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

Gibbs caught the look on the man's face. "Are you blushin', Mario?"

"Bah! Get going before I tell Franco's mother you finally cut your hair, you mangy dog."

…..

The hotel room was cool and quiet and she finally felt like she could decompress. But before she could drop onto the bed, he steered her towards the bathroom, despite her protests.

"Have a shower first," he told her. "Hot. Get all that ocean off. Then if you want to sleep, sleep."

Though she wasn't thrilled with the idea, she had to admit it was a good one when she felt the hot water pour over and down her body. The ocean and the accident had chilled her to the bone and she hadn't realized it until she stood under the shower head. The heat had the extra benefit of releasing the tension in her shoulders and neck, and it brought her blood pressure back up to a level that lifted her mood. The soap lathered the rest of her aches away and she inhaled its mint aroma, letting it calm her mind. 

Had she been alone, she would've stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, but she thought of the man in the other room and knew which one would win out for her attention. Turning the knobs off, she did a quick towel dry before wrapping it around herself and opening the door. The path to the bedroom made her pass the living room where he was slouching in a chair, sunglasses on, head back. She was halfway to the bedroom when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Where you goin'?"

"Um, to get dressed?"

Without lifting his head, he replied, "Don't have to on my account." His stillness was betrayed by his smirk. 

"Stop," she said with a laugh. "I'll be right out."

'Right out' only took 5 minutes, and her emergence from the bedroom was what finally got him to raise his head. She came out with jean shorts and a white bikini top that both accentuated her tan and everything else about her. A light gauze cover-up did enough to be considered as such, though it left enough to the imagination. She felt his stare from behind his sunglasses and suddenly felt self-conscious.

Gesturing vaguely to the outfit, she said, "I think I'm done with the water for today."

"But not the sun."

She figured he would put it together without her having to say. With the top that wouldn't hide her scars without the cover, they both knew she wouldn't be going back in the ocean, but she had made no secret that she loved the sun almost as dearly.

"But not the sun," she echoed.

He nodded his understanding. "So I'm guessin' the nap's off the menu?"

Her stomach growled at the word and she laughed. "Guess so. Don't suppose you know where a girl can get a good fish taco, do you?"

"I might know a place."

…..

Though it was busier than it had been the first night she was there, Rita immediately recognized Jack with a smile and a wave. 

"Same?" she called out to Gibbs over the crowd around the truck.

"Same. And 2 limes."

The exchange caught the attention of a small group of teenagers. "Hey! You're that surfer!"

When Jack didn't respond, Gibbs tapped her shoulder. "Think he's talkin' about you."

She turned to the young man and he nodded. "Yeah! You were fucking amazing out there! And the thing with the kid? You're a fucking hero!"

She started to duck her head at the praise, but felt Gibbs' hand push gently between her shoulders, encouraging her chin up. "Thanks," she said. "Any word on Kai?"

"They took him to the hospital just to make sure he was okay," a girl spoke up. "But he was talking and everything. I think he ended up with like 5 dates for tonight."

Jack laughed. "Good for him." Rita saved her from any further attention by shouting out her name. 

"Here, take our table," the girl said, "we were just about to leave."

Another teen took out his phone. "Can I get a selfie?"

"Sure." She moved in closer and smiled into the camera. 

"Awesome!"

They sat down after the group dispersed and Gibbs whispered, "Awesome!" much to her amusement. "Can I have your autograph, Ms. Sloane?" 

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't be an ass."

"Nah, you did good today, Jack," he said, curbing his sarcasm with the truth. "You saved that kid's life and surfed like a goddamn dream. Deserve all the attention in the world."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't want _all_ the attention in the world." She touched his knee with hers even as she dug into the tacos. 

He tilted back the Jarritos and wondered how he was going to get through the day if she was going to keep doing _that_.

…..

She wondered how she was going to get through the day if he was going to keep doing _that._ When he had walked her to the hotel earlier in the day, they had passed the row of makeshift huts along the boardwalk that popped up for the weekend. Seeing her longing gaze, he had promised her he'd bring her back, and they had headed in that direction after eating. But somewhere along the way, among the crowds that filled the boardwalk, his fingers found hers and held on so they wouldn't get separated. Which in and of itself wouldn't be so distracting if he didn't brush his thumb across the inside of her wrist at random moments, like he was trying to assure himself she was really there. The calloused thumb pad scratched lightly along the sensitive skin and she nearly jumped out of hers every time he did it. There was something possessive yet protective in the touch, and she wondered if he was even aware he was doing it.

She tugged him from stall to stall and he didn't complain, letting her enjoy the moment for what it was, letting the afternoon distract her from the morning. She was greeted with warmth and kindness by strangers and shop owners, but she found the most comfort pressed into Gibbs' side, and was content enough just to stroll down the boardwalk with him. When they got to the end, a familiar face made the journey's completion a bit brighter.

"Miguel!" 

It was the only time Gibbs' had let go of her hand, unlinking their fingers so she could embrace Miguel in a huge hug.

"Jack! I'm sorry I missed the competition. Figured you winning was a sure thing. Couldn't say the same about selling these boards." He winked at Gibbs while thumbing behind him. "Tomas lets us share his stall so long as I can get rid of the boards by the auction."

Gibbs looked over his shoulder. There were 2 boards left out of the 10 he had made. "Why do you still have 2 left?"

Miguel hooted at the dry sarcasm. "Relax. I sold 5 right after Jack won the women's competition and everyone found out you made her board." 

"If you still have one at the end of the day, let me know. Looks like I need a new one." Though she said it brightly, her smile faltered and she felt Gibbs touch her waist from behind. 

Miguel's mouth twisted sadly. "I heard. But I'll bet you it just turns up in Cabos in 2 days. Don't worry."

She appreciated the optimism. "Thanks, Miguel."

Looking at Gibbs, he said, "You sticking around for the auction?"

"This one needs a bodyguard to save her from all her fans," he replied, deftly avoiding a pinch from Jack, "so I guess so."

Miguel arched an eyebrow. Both men knew Gibbs never stuck around the festivities too long, and both knew why this time was an exception. Catching Gibbs' warning glare but not surrendering to it entirely, he bobbed his head. "Like your haircut, it's a miracle, huh?" 

"Be a miracle if you can sell those boards while you're yappin' at me," Gibbs grunted even as Jack lightly slapped his chest.

"He's doing great," she chastised, then turned the compliment to Miguel. "You're doing great."

He raised his chin at Gibbs. "See? I'm doing great." A horn sounded in the distance, near the end of the beach. "They're going to hand out the prizes for the surfing," he said. "You've got 10 minutes; with his knee, you better get going now."

Linking her fingers with his, she tugged him away before he could throw out a retort, but considering how good her hand felt in his, it wasn't such a bad thing.

…..

He watched her accept the award and the money from the sidelines, and felt a sense of pride he couldn't explain. It had nothing to do with her winning what amounted to, in the grand scheme of things, a nothing tournament. He imagined she had done so many other things he'd be proud of. But seeing the way the people he knew accepted her and cheered her on brought a smile to his face and a personal conceit in the fact that she was with him. Or maybe that he was lucky enough to be with her.

He had watched her make that decision in the water, to give up the board to save Kai, and while his brain was proud she had made that choice, his heart hadn't taken it nearly as well, clenching in his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs until he thought he'd collapse. Only Mario's voice somewhere to his left had kept him tethered to the moment, assuring him she was okay, Kai was okay, everything was okay. He didn't truly believe it until he had her in his arms, and even then, he wasn't sure _he_ was okay. Something had changed in 4 simple, ordinary days. He couldn't explain it until she looked at him from the chair that served as the podium and smiled. His heart clenched again, but this time in a different way. The smile was just for him, and he basked in it.

He was still living off the rays of her smile when she appeared at his side, grabbed his hand and slapped something into his palm. The action brought him back to the present and he looked down.

"I'm not takin' your money, Sloane," he said, seeing the winnings pressed into his hand.

"Oh, I think you are."

"Nope."

Her eyes met his, and for the first time in his life, he almost blinked.

"You want a staring contest with me, Cowboy? I will bury you."

He blinked.

…..

"Welcome to the Todos Santos annual summer festival," Mario announced over the microphone. "I'd tell you what year we're celebrating, but no one really knows for certain. I only remember coming down to these festivities, not so big then, when I was a boy."

"So it's at least a hundred years old!" Gibbs yelled out, much to the crowd's delight.

"Very funny. For that, we do you first." He waved Gibbs up to the small platform, clearly not taking 'no' for an answer. "While we wait for Rickety Knee to come up here, let me explain for those who are having the pleasure of experiencing our celebrations for the first time. Some come for the surfing and some come just for the auction, because, like the waves, we offer something unique- everything here is hand made by someone who lives here. Yes, when you're all gone, we get back to work." He smiled at the crowd. "Which is why half the money goes to the person who made it, and the other half goes to a worthwhile cause chosen by the vote of the council. I am proud to announce this year's recipient is Juana Rodriguez."

A cheer rippled through the crowd, and the locals began clapping. Miguel, who was at Jack's side, gasped and turned to his mother.

"Mom?"

She shook her head. "I didn't know."

Gibbs also didn't know, if his expression as he approached Mario was anything to go by. The older man winked. 

"There are many beautiful things made here," he continued, enjoying his friend's rare display of surprise. "And it may be loco for me to say, since he's my biggest competitor, but no one makes better boards on the entire west coast than Jethro Gibbs." Whistles and applause replied. "I see some of you have already bought one. But there's nothing quite like this one." Mario brought the board to the forefront. "Maple with oak stringers. Hollowed out by hand because there's a rumour he doesn't have electricity." The crowd laughed. "Everything, by hand, the way it used to be. You can't put a price on time, but let's see what we can do, hey?"

"Is the carpenter included?" a female voice shouted.

"A 1000 dollars for the carpenter!"

"$2000!"

"$3000!"

Mario waved his hands. "Ladies, ladies, it's not that kind of auction. My goodness! Ms. Sloane, come get your man before he starts a riot."

His smirk hid his embarrassment to everyone but her, because she was certain she saw his ears darken. She definitely knew that same flush was spreading across her cheeks. He stepped off the stage, glaring at a very amused Mario, though he turned a smile towards Jack that only confirmed the man's playful remark. 

Without breaking eye contact, Jack called out to Mario, "Start the bidding, Mario. Just for the board."

"$2000 dollars!" Both Jack and Gibbs turned to Izzy who shrugged. "Not everyone has their own personal board builder."

…..

Izzy didn't win the board but she was clever enough to draw the other bidder right to the line she was willing to spend while still squeezing out every last cent out of the man. She winked when the gavel ended the auction at an unexpected price tag.

"What an amateur," she scoffed. "He should've spent less attention on these," she gestured to her breasts, "and more on how much he was bidding." 

"Izzy!"

She waved away Jack's shock. "Please. I was just glad to help."

Gibbs leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her cheek, stunning the woman into silence. "I owe ya."

He whispered it into her ear and she replied into his. "You know how you can repay me." She pulled back and smiled, flashing a look and an eyebrow at Jack.

"What are you two whispering about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Izzy sassed back. "You two coming to the bonfire? Franco's got some friends who take over the end of the beach."

When the sun began to go down, bonfires would begin to litter the beach and burn into the night. Jack looked at Gibbs who shrugged when he saw the interest in her eyes.

"Lemme check on Miguel, but I don't see why not." The smile only made him want to give her everything. "Go find a spot an' I'll find you."

She ran her hand down his forearm and hooked a finger on the thick diver's watch band. "Come find me."

The sultry command hit him right in the gut and he didn't even care that the look on his face made Izzy laugh.

…..

The fire was far enough from the water to burn brightly without the wind whipping too close. An assortment of chairs circled the flames and a group of friends greeted Izzy and Jack when they arrived. Franco stood and kissed Izzy, then gestured to a chair for Jack. 

"Is the sea dog coming?"

Jack grinned at the moniker. "Yes. He's just helping Miguel close up the stall."

"I don't think I've seen him out so much," Franco said. "It's good to see him in the land of the living sometimes." His eyes caught a familiar figure approaching. "Speak of the devil."

Gibbs lifted his chin. "Franco."

"Drinks?"

"Wouldn't mind a beer if you got it."

He nodded at Gibbs. "And you, Jack?"

"A beer sounds great, thanks."

With a smile at Izzy, he said, "And a cooler for the lady. I'll be right back."

The three sat and Izzy sighed. "What a day, huh?"

"Hard to believe it's all happened in one day," Jack admitted. "Someone said they saw Kai earlier, can you believe it?"

Gibbs snorted. "That kid has probably told the story so many times, he's the one who saved you."

Jack reached over to slap his chest, but ended up resting her arm on his instead. "Let him tell whatever story he wants. He was pretty damn brave out there."

"What ever happened to the asshole?" Izzy asked.

Franco returned with the drinks. "Mario had a crew go to his hotel, grab his stuff and shove him on the first bus out of town. I think he flew into Cabos, so I hope that's where the bus is going!" He laughed, handing out the bottles before taking a seat beside Izzy.

Jack held up her bottle for a toast. "To finding your way home."

Everyone tapped drinks and Gibbs looked at her and said, "Amen to that."

…..


	10. Chapter 10

…..

The night was kicking off with music from someone's stereo and laughter growing more boisterous around the fire. Jack was content to watch and laugh along, letting the wind and the beer ease her into the night, her fingers never leaving his arm, stroking back and forth in a way he was sure she didn't even realize. He turned every once in a while to look at her, using her conversation with Izzy on her right as a cover, watching how the fire's warm yellow and orange lit her face and cast shadows that were lifted by her smile. Franco had said something that had caught her attention and when she threw her head back and laughed, Gibbs' eyes trailed down her throat to the hollow that had tempted him the day she had cut his hair. When he saw her shiver slightly, he looked up, right into her eyes.

"Cold?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Got a blanket in the truck." He went to stand up but she pressed his arm.

"I'll get it," she said, and before he could object, she added, "I need to find the ladies' room anyway."

"Blanket's in the truck box in the back. Parked it up the path to the main by the flower shop. Mrs. Martinez will let you use the head if you ask her nicely."

Jack nodded. "Need anything?"

"Nah. Just you."

His bluntness caught her by surprise, and him, too, if he was honest, but he didn't bother backtracking. Instead, he just looked at her and found some amusement in her stutter.

"I… okay. I'll bring back a Jarritos anyway."

"Whattya need a Jarhead for?" Izzy asked, this side of inebriated. "You already have one."

"Jarritos," Jack repeated. "How much have you had to drink?" With only a shrug as a reply, she said to Franco, "Make sure she doesn't fall into the ocean, would you? Or the fire."

"Yes, ma'am."

Gibbs lifted his head to look over his shoulder at Jack who had trailed her fingers across his right shoulder and was lightly scratching through the newly cut brush on the back of his head.

"Ma'am," he mouthed.

She tweaked his ear in retaliation. "I'll be right back."

…..

The air wasn't nearly as cool on the street as it was on the beach, and she almost reconsidered getting the blanket, but what she found in the truck box was too good to pass up.

…..

He was thankful he had just brought the bottle up to his lips when he saw her, because it helped cover the way his mouth dropped at the sight. She had 2 bottles of Jarritos in her hand, but the blanket was nowhere to be seen. Because a red oversized Marine hoodie took its place. She pressed the cool bottle against his neck before handing it to him and sitting down.

"Where did the lovebirds go?"

He blinked twice before the words hit his brain. "Franco knows a place to see the fireworks. Or so he said."

Jack grinned. "But they don't start for another hour, do they?"

"'A place' is probably The Point." He gestured into the semi-darkness down the beach. "The same place every guy's gonna take his girl. Franco's gotta get there early to get a spot."

She followed his direction with her eyes. "You taking your girl there?"

"Nope." He waited until he had her attention. "Gonna take my girl to a real place."

"Mmmm," she hummed. "These young guys are just amateurs."

"Got that right."

She grinned again and closed her eyes, savouring the lime drink. He just savoured her. She had tucked herself into the chair, feet on the edge, pink toenails peeking out of the hoodie she had pulled over her knees and down her legs, and in an instant, he knew how the night would end. A part of him had still been holding off, too caught up in what the day after would bring instead of what the day was bringing now. And the day was bringing her. 

He had come to Todos Santos not just as a favour for his friend. He had had his own past still packed up in boxes in his head and the change of scenery was meant to leave it behind. She'd probably be the first to tell him that wasn't how healing worked, but then again, she was the first one in years to make him think he _could_ be healed. 

He was a simple man who didn't need much to be happy. A small home, a shop, the ocean. Which was probably why he was looking at her and recognizing his urge to self-sabotage. Nothing lasted forever, especially when it was good. And she was all kinds of good. The kind maybe he didn't deserve. Her eyes opened and looked right at him and her hand came out to trail down his jawline, like she had read his thoughts and dismissed them.

"Show me. This place."

Without breaking eye contact, he downed his drink, stood and lifted her to her feet. Tossing the bottles in the empties box, he started up the path but wasn't surprised when she took the lead and tugged him all the way to the truck.

…..

"It's your place."

There was no disappointment in her voice, only amusement. The minute he had turned down the road to the cove, she knew where they were going, even if she wondered if there was another off-shoot path he was going to take along the way. But no, the road took them right to his home, though he surprised her by reversing the truck down into the beach where the water nearly touched the tires.

"Will you be able to drive it out later?" He just shrugged and she laughed.

Hopping into the back, he grabbed the blanket out of the box, spread it across the truck bed and threw 2 life jackets across the box to cushion the edges. He groaned as he lowered himself into a sitting position, sighing when he was able to stretch out his legs. She took his cue and followed suit, though she had a harder time getting into the back until he bent forward and held out a hand to pull her in. She shifted beside him until she was comfortable against him, her head tilted back to look up at the sky.

"When do they start the fireworks?" she asked.

"Not quite dark enough yet," Gibbs replied. "I can still see him across the bay."

She lifted her head and scanned the cove until she saw a dark shadow in the distance. 

"For a six-pack, I let him fire them out from the cove. It's the calmest water and the best place to launch 'em."

"And the best place to see them." He nodded. "Very clever. Those women at the auction will be _so_ jealous." Her face went up to the sky again as she waited for the darkness to roll in. 

He looked at her again, the way he had at the fire, savouring the moment yet suddenly impatient. His left hand reached across to brush the hair out of her face, and she turned into the touch, kissing his palm and meeting his gaze with hers. He inched closer and shouldn'tve been surprised when she closed the distance faster than he did. They had both ambushed each other in a way, with their kisses on the beach that morning, but this one was days in the making. It was slow yet certain, a test yet an absolute. She had caught his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled him into her mouth as his hand bunched her hair in his fist and brought _her_ closer. Confident she wasn't going anywhere, his hand slowly lowered down her shoulder, gently tugging at the hoodie, and she immediately complied, turning on one knee to bring the other across his waist. She settled onto his lap and it took both of them a minute to breathe again. She kissed him hard and he responded in kind, his hands going into her hair again, almost fiercely, lips pressed together almost painfully. When she ground down, he broke away long enough to groan at the pressure, to growl at the pleasure. The sound rumbled up his throat and vibrated against her lips that were leaving red trail markers up to his ear. She pressed down again and this time, the groan came from her. He slipped his hands down to her hips to give him time to breathe.

"You said you'd be gentle," he reminded her, proud of the fact he could string together words that made sense.

She laughed against his ear, nipping at the lobe. "Is it too much?"

Without having to look into her eyes, it was easier for him to say, "Not sure it'll ever be enough."

She lifted her head from his neck and searched blue eyes in the dark. He didn't look away, but he knew words would fail him. So instead, he found the hoodie's hem and slipped his fingers underneath. She had traded the cover-up for the hoodie, because all he felt was skin, soft, warm skin. His light touch made her jump and he grinned. His hands bracketed her ribs and slowly worked their way up until his thumbs brushed across the bikini top. She arched into the tease which only made her press harder into his lap. Her hand reached down and found the button of his shorts, yanking it open with an impatience that made him raise an eyebrow.

"Don't judge me," she kissed against his mouth. "I've been thinking about you in Speedos all day." When her hand found nothing except warmth and hardness, she pulled back and all but purred. "Commando? God, you've been commando this entire time." She squeezed her appreciation and he bucked up into her touch. 

Not to be outdone, his hands moved from her ribcage to her back, but her response was much different. He understood the reaction and slowed his movements, allowing his fingertips time to soothe old pains. He wondered how many men she had allowed to touch her.

As if reading his thoughts, she said, "I wasn't lying when I said it's been a long time. I've never quite felt…" Her voice trailed off out of uncertainty, out of embarrassment.

But he well knew the horrors of coming home from war even if their experiences were different. He often wondered how much of him was left on the inside, and he didn't have to deal with the reminders on the outside. His fingers traced every line with reverence. 

"They're only a part of who you are, Jack." Under the space of the oversized hoodie, one hand untied the knot under her shoulder blades, the other the knot behind her neck. "You are so much more than that." Slowly, he pulled the garment free, dropping it on the blanket before bringing his hands around to the front again, cupping her breasts in his palms. 

Sighing, she put her hands under the sweater to cover his, squeezing his hands and pressing herself into his calloused palms. Her head fell back and he dipped his tongue into the hollow between her collarbones before creating a lattice of kisses up her throat. She slipped her hands from under the hoodie and brought them around his shoulders, running her fingers through his cropped hair. 

"I… I shouldn't have cut it so short," she moaned into the night air. "I might need something to hold on to later."

The image of why she would need something to hold onto -a very clear image of his head between her legs- made him want to make it happen right there, right then, but it was her ballsy confession that made him laugh. 

"Jesus, Sloane, I'm not gonna make it to the house if you keep talkin' like that."

"We're not going to make out in the back of your pickup?" He could almost hear the pout in her voice, even if it was playful.

"Too old. And the suspension's gone."

She laughed, and it only made him want her more. A firework popped, lighting up the dark sky. She jumped at the sound but laughed again before curling into the arms that held her close.

…..


	11. Chapter 11

She had made the bed something warm and soft and a place he found comfort in for the first time in years. Which was probably how she was able to sneak out of it before his arm stretched over and found her missing. His eyes snapped open, but the smell of coffee banished the concern that had begun to bloom. Laying flat on his back, the frown was replaced by a grin. He ached all goddamn over and he couldn't be happier.

_Happy. So that's what it felt like._

He had almost forgotten.

He threw the sheet back and felt the cool wood under his feet before padding his way to the bathroom. When he ran a quick brush over his teeth and his movements got no reaction from the kitchen, he started to wonder again. His descent into the living room also gave no answers, but when he saw her shorts still strewn on the floor, he smiled and looked out the living room window. Sure enough, he found her.

…..

She let the early morning water wash over her, submerging herself in the shallow depths. When she popped back to the surface, a familiar face was waiting with 2 coffees in hand, the water up to his thighs. As she waded closer, she could see his eyes lower.

"Afraid to disappoint you, Cowboy."

"Figured since it's not daylight yet-"

She laughed at the reminder. "Didn't you see enough on the couch? And on the stairs? In the bedroom?"

Her voice dropped from playful to sultry and he shook his head. "Nope, that's a trick question." He handed her the cup and watched her pupils dilate at the first sip.

Her tongue gauged the sugar by swiping across her lips, and her low hum was her judgment. The cool water and the hot drink was the perfect combination. Having him in the water with her was an extra bonus.

"I could get used to this."

The words were said in jest, but considering the situation they found themselves in, it had more weight than she might have intended.

"Could you?" he asked, a part of him hopeful even if he knew the futility of it.

"Yeah, I could," she admitted. "But I can't stay, Gibbs."

She had been honest with him and she deserved the same. "An' I can't leave. Not right now."

"I know. I didn't expect you to." She looked around. "I didn't expect any of this." The words were said almost to herself, a bittersweet whisper. Taking another drink of her coffee, she used the distraction to say, "I'm going to try and talk Izzy into leaving this afternoon. Won't take much convincing if I tell her I'll do all the driving. Maybe spend the night in Guerrero Negro before pushing off to San Diego." She knew she was rambling but without the words filling the space between them, she felt lost. She didn't dare look into his eyes.

"You finished?"

His casual question brought a smile to her lips. "Talking or drinking?"

He waded closer to her. "Both."

"Yes." She held up her cup. "No." Before she had a chance to realize what he was doing, he took the mug from her hand and tossed both his and hers to the beach. "Hey!" Her laughter was caught up in his kiss and she was swept up in his arms as he drifted them into deeper water. Her toes lifted from the bottom and she wrapped her legs around his waist, revelling in his warm lips against her neck. "You got any boards left?"

"Are you asking me if I've got wood?" She bit his earlobe in retaliation though it did nothing to remove his smirk. "Yeah, I got a couple in the shop."

"Wanna surf with me?" He lifted his head from her neck and stared into golden amber, but she took his transfixed stare as hesitation. Deftly reaching behind her, it only took her a second to lift the bikini top in the air. "You get the bottom half when you bring the boards."

He pulled her back in until her feet touched again and ran to the shop as quick as his bad knee would take him.

…..

Though their time in the water was light and casual, their time on land only brought her closer to leaving and they both knew it, could both feel the separation starting despite their efforts to hold on. 

"I guess I should go. If I wait for Izzy to wake up, we'll never leave." She heard the words and pressed her lips together. He stepped close enough to curl his hand in her hair and kiss her forehead. 

"I can drive you into town."

She shook her head under his lips. "No. It'll just be harder."

"Call me when you get into Guerrero Negro."

"Probably won't be until midnight."

"Don't care."

She lifted her chin to kiss him and she tasted her tears. Stepping back, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"You confiscated that pretty damn quick."

His soft accusation lifted her mood ever so slightly. "Seemed only fair since you can't seem to find my top." The way he tilted his head back and forth brought the boyish charm to the fore and she smiled. Framing his face with her hands, she rose on tiptoes to kiss him again.

"Tell Miguel I'm sorry I missed him."

"He's probably scouring the coastline lookin' for your board."

The image made her chuckle. "If he finds it, there's a place in San Diego for him."

"I'll tell him."

Running out of words and time, Jack lowered her heels and dropped her hands to his, linking their fingers together. "Stay sharp, Gunny."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She smiled again despite her heavy heart. With one last kiss, she left him on the doorstep of his shop and didn't look back.

…..

"Why did I agree to let you drag me on the road at this godforsaken hour?" Izzy grumbled from the passenger seat.

"Godforsaken hour? It's 1 in the afternoon." Jack squinted through her sunglasses at the long stretch of highway ahead. She had gotten back into town and gone right to the hotel, determined to be in the Jeep by noon, and despite Izzy's objections, they were almost on Jack's schedule. "And you let me drag you because you know I'm a mess and I needed to leave before I did something stupid."

"What, like stay?" The words made Jack's lip tremble and Izzy reached across to squeeze her hand. "That was a shitty thing for me to say. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. But you're not wrong."

"And he won't come? I mean, beyond whatever you two did last night."

The sly comment pulled a laugh and an exclamation from Jack. "Oh my God! You're a horrible, horrible person. No, he won't-" She stopped herself from using the word, knowing Izzy was waiting for it. "He won't leave. Not right now."

"I wonder what will happen? With the road and Juana."

"I saw Mario on the way to the hotel. They raised over $20,000 last night, and I know Gibbs made at least 10 on his own, so things are looking good. Mario was confident they'd be able to get the rest together and have the road built by the end of the month."

Izzy whistled. "They're going to cut it close. If your man had put himself up on auction, they would've had the money outright." Jack only rolled her eyes. "Hey," Izzy asked, a thought occurring to her, "did you cut his hair?"

She took her eyes off the road long enough to give a side look to her friend. "Yeah, why?"

"Nothing. Does he know about Afghanistan?"

"Well, I _was_ naked last night." When she saw how the retort rolled off Izzy's back, she sighed. "No. He's seen the scars but he doesn't know where they came from. And he didn't ask." She realized how comforting it had been to not have to explain or deflect. "He's got his own scars."

"And great hands. What?" 

Jack laughed and secretly appreciated the way her friend could lighten a mood. "You're incorrigible."

"Tell me, when you helped him build the board, was it like Swayze and Moore in 'Ghost'? The two of you, his hands on yours while you sanded or did whatever Mr. Carpenter does."

"It's a long stretch of highway between here and Guerrero Negro," Jack said casually, with a ribbon of warning. "It would take weeks for your body to be found."

"All right, all right. I'll just sit here and be quiet."

"Promise?"

Izzy stuck out her tongue. "I have to pee."

…..

She almost didn't call him when they pulled into the motel and the clock rolled past midnight, but with Izzy out on the bed and her mind going a hundred miles a minute, she thought she could at least use it as an excuse to step outside and try to decompress. Which was why when he picked up, she stuttered to speak. The sanding in the background jolted her back to the present.

"Are you in the shop?"

"Yep. Season's not over yet and I'm outta boards." It was a better story than telling her the smell of her in his sheets made it impossible to sleep.

"I saw Mario before I left," she told him.

"Yeah, he told me." The sanding continued its rhythmic sound. "Eddie's worked out the numbers, thinks he can do it with the money we got."

"That's fantastic!"

"We'll see how long it takes to get the permit through the Mexican red tape."

A silence weaved between them and she stared out into the night. "You don't like to talk on the phone, do you?"

"Nope."

She smiled at his honesty. "Then I'll let you go. Got an early morning start anyway."

" _I_ don't like to talk on the phone. I like _you_ talking on the phone."

"Oh yeah?" She lowered her voice. "What are you wearing, Cowboy?"

She heard the phone drop and a loud thud hit the floor and his laughter in the distance. "Jesus, Sloane, I coulda killed myself."

"With your hand sander? What are you going to do, plane yourself to death?"

"Smart ass."

With his voice so close it was hard to believe he was over 11 hours away, and by the end of the next day, there would be over 1000 miles between them. She tried not to let the weight of the distance and the uncertainty of it all suffocate her heart. 

"I really should go," she said. "I've got a 10 hour drive tomorrow."

"Get your friend behind the wheel."

"Yeah, no. I want to get into the city before Wednesday. She drives like my aunt Esther."

His warm chuckle rolled down the line. "Tell her Franco says 'hello'. And Alejandro. And Carlos."

"I think you might've missed one there."

"I miss _you_."

The blunt confession was unexpected and it hit her right in the chest before blooming heat through her lungs. "I'll call you when I get into San Diego?"

"You askin' me or tellin' me?"

The way he covered the slice of vulnerability with his gruff question wasn't a surprise and she didn't cover her laugh. "I'm tellin' you, Gunny." 

The way he ended the call with a snap didn't surprise her either.

…..

There were 3 constants over the course of the month- she talked to him every night, she surfed every day and she missed him every minute. If there was any small consolation, it was knowing she wasn't the only one.

"I washed your sweater," she had blurted out the previous night. She had held on to his scent as long as she could, but a coffee spill had forced her hand. Hearing the words and how desperate they sounded, she tried to laugh it off. "I know that sounds crazy. I just-"

Using his movements around the shop to cover his reply, he said, "Washed the sheets."

His very Gibbsian use of flattery made her smile. "Considering it's been almost a month, I'd say 'ewwww', but you don't sleep much in your bed, do you?"

Rather than admit to anything, he asked, "Want another sweater?"

"Only if you're in it."

She heard his low hum, then, "Was thinkin' the same thing about the bed."

"God, you're ridiculously charming, you know that?" She could hear his maddening smirk 1000 miles away and she repaid him by boring him with details of the upcoming weekend.

That was the previous night and 12 hours later, she stood on the beach, board in hand, facing the ocean. The shoreline barely held more than a handful of people at the early morning hour, though she recognized a few familiar surfheads getting their waves in before the crowds rolled in. She caught a few of her own, still lamenting the loss of her board in Mexico, but finding the ocean and solitude the same no matter the board. The waves were plentiful and she floated freely in the water until time got away from her and the sun told her it was later than she thought. She came out of the water in a 2-piece that hugged her body and showed her scars and she didn't care, walking up the beach with a swagger that got her some appreciative looks that she ignored. Her Jeep was in a private lot owned by a friend and only a stone's throw from the beach and she was nearly there when she saw the vehicle angled behind the Jeep, blocking her in.

"You have got to be kidding me." 

She propped her board against the door and turned around, as if she could identify the owner with her glare. She didn't need to look far; she would've recognized him even without the black Marine hoodie in the San Diego heat. He was standing high on the beach, away from the water and the splashing crowd, his profile sharp as he scanned the waves. Her board - _the_ board- was planted in the sand, and it took everything in her to not run to him. Instead, she sauntered down the beach, her smile growing with every step. Like he had a radar finely tuned to her frequency, he turned his head and saw her coming. Even from the distance, she would swear she saw his blue eyes shine.

With no preamble, her arms went around his shoulders and she kissed him slow, like his very presence turned her desperate longing into something easy and comforting. His receptive mouth and hands didn't hurt, either. Just when she was really beginning to enjoy his fingertips running up and down her back, she felt him freeze. He only pulled back far enough to look into her eyes.

"Someone told me I was more than my scars," she said softly, understanding his unspoken discovery. His agreement was in another kiss, and what started slow was rolling quickly into his little bites down her jaw. She tried to rein it in by asking, "What are you doing here?" His first response, telegraphed by a smirk, was preempted by the pinch she gave to his ribs. "I don't mean this second, Ass. I meant, in general."

"Found your board," he said. "Heard there was a place to stay for the person who found it."

"Oh, that invitation was for Miguel."

He nipped under her ear in retaliation. "S'why the sweater's my backup plan."

"So clever." She ran her fingers across his temple. "Here for a haircut, too?"

"Among other things."

There was something in his tone that got her attention. "Oh?"

"Some business to look into." Her eyebrow raised and he tried to shrug his reply. "Mario's got some people for me to chase down with some ideas. He wants to expand into California." She put the pieces together, as he knew she would. 

"He wants you as a partner."

"It's gonna take some time, Jack."

She knew he was trying hard not to get her hopes up, and she acknowledged it by saying, "Should've kept the board." He frowned and she clarified, "You know, to give me a reason to visit in the meantime."

"I'm takin' it back," he stated flatly. "An' the hoodie. An' the _other_ hoodie."

She tugged at the thick fabric around his waist. "No!" It was a playful pout that got her a laugh. Looking at the board, she said, "I can't believe you found it."

"Washed up on Cabo two days later, just like Miguel said."

"Two days later? You've had it all this time and you didn't tell me??"

"Wanted to surprise you."

She could only shake her head. Like him showing up out of the blue on the San Diego beach wasn't enough. Her eyes ran over the minimal damage on the board, her thumb flicking into some of the small grooves.

He watched the way she touched the board, almost reverently. "I smoothed them out but figured you were okay with a few dings."

"I can tell people it was a school of baby sharks!" He nearly dropped his hands as punishment for her quip, but she grabbed him by the elbows and lifted his hands back to her waist. "Besides, I like things with dings." In case he didn't realize she wasn't just talking about the board, she slipped hers under his sweater and into the heat of the cotton and his body. Her forehead rested against his chest and she sighed.

"I'm here until the end of the week."

She realized she hadn't asked and surprised herself by admitting she didn't care. "Got my board, my hoodie and my guy. That's all that matters."

"Third on the list?"

"Surf's up!" someone yelled in the distance. She turned her head to watch the waves roll in.

"Christ, I'm about to be fourth." He tempered his accusation by brushing back her windswept hair from her profile. "Take it." She turned to his order, brows pressed down in confusion. "The board. Take it. Go."

She realized what he was saying and shook her head. "No. I can surf whenever."

"Surf now," he told her, dropping a light kiss on her lips. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

She didn't ask him if he was sure; his eyes told her everything. With a joy that lifted her heart, she hooked the board under her arm and began to jog towards the water. When it came up to her hips, she turned to look behind her and saw his smile, so wide, so true, and with a smile of her own, she pointed the board toward the horizon.

…..

-end


End file.
